Willingden, and those who live there
by Imogen74
Summary: A continuation of the TV series, so spoilers for episodes 1-8. Trying to tie up loose ends here, readers, should we not get a second season.
1. Chapter 1

It had been a month.

And yet, the breeze felt the same, the sun felt the same. The rain was just as warm. A month of tarrying about in a bit of a haze…

For Charlotte Heywood had changed a great deal, yet had remained inert in her melancholy. She hid it well, all things considered.

Willingden was just as she had left it some months ago. And its constancy was some comfort to her.

But that same permanence also gave her pain, for she was different, and she resented the sameness. She wanted to be living as she had been, without the constraint of daily life with ten siblings and a house to tend to.

Yet here she was.

And the worst of it, she felt utterly alone.

It was a curious thing, what with ten siblings to fill your time, along with two parents, various servants, and a household, to feel so alone.

All the same, so it was.

Charlotte was walking along, deep in thought. The grass was taller, so there was that. She ghosted her palm along the tops of the grass, feeling the tickle on her skin. She was experiencing the same numbness that had plagued her since leaving Sanditon. And she was at a loss as to how to change it.

She walked back to the house after turning about the meadow several times and wanting some refreshment.

A few of her sisters were in the garden adjacent to the house, and she approached them. "What is it you're doing, lovelies?" she knelt beside them.

"Picking flowers for the table. Mother said to gather some for dinner. We're to have a guest," Liliana picked some yellow posies.

"A guest?" Charlotte looked at Allison, the sister closest to her age.

"It's what mother said," Allison shrugged her shoulders. "Catherine! Not those…they're not fully grown yet!" she admonished the youngest.

Charlotte went inside. The Heywood's did not often enjoy the company of guests. Though the house was comfortable enough, people did not come calling on them. Ordinarily, it was a few of her siblings, and perhaps her mother, who went to friends' houses or balls.

Father barely left but to go to London.

She walked into the parlor to find her mother arranging some flowers and talking to the cook. "He said he'd be here but two nights, but who knows with young men? Best we prepare for the week," she nodded as the cook left.

"Mamma, who is visiting?"

"Oh! Charlotte! I am so glad you are come. I did not wish to disturb you on your walk," she went to her oldest daughter. "This letter came with the post just a short while ago," she handed it to her.

_Dear Ms Heywood,_

_I am writing to alert you and your daughter Miss Charlotte Heywood of my arrival in Willingden this evening. I am only planning on staying a short while, a night or two, but I met Miss Heywood during her time at Sanditon, and have been anxious to see her again. _

_I must not dally too long, as I'll be needed in London._

_Yours sincerely,  
Mr James Stringer_

"Mr Stringer," Charlotte breathed, a small smile on her face.

"Yes. Is he a pleasant young man?"

"He is. He is the finest man…" she almost said _Of my acquaintance,_ but that would not be true, and Charlotte was not in the habit of uttering falsehoods. "He is a very amicable young man." There. That was perfectly true.

"Is he…?" her mother began. "Well, never mind. Let's prepare the house for his impending arrival."

Charlotte nodded and began issuing requests to the maids. They only had a few. One butler. Two cooks…

But they were not destitute, not in the slightest. Father ran a tight ship. He had to, with eleven children. Six of which were girls.

She was the second oldest. Her brother Charlie was two years her elder; though she loved him very much, she sometimes wondered at his unwillingness to grow up. Allison, her younger sister by one year, she was very close with. But it was John, the next in line, almost three years younger than Charlotte, whom she loved most dearly. She played with him tirelessly when they were little.

And they maintained a steady, close friendship. In fact, the four oldest of the lot were quite close in general, for they were expected to do most of the work. And so, they took care of the seven younger children as they came…the gap was most large between John and the twins, Lilliana and Caroline; five years separated them. Though Charlotte would never speak such a thought to her parents, she questioned to herself the wisdom of having such a brood after the first four. It seemed as though there was a lull, and then consecutive children every year or two for ten years.

She busied herself that afternoon with chores, mostly to help the maids with the cleaning, in anticipation of Mr Stringer's arrival. She did not want to discuss what had been plaguing her mind for the month since her departure, and rather hoped it wouldn't come up. She hadn't discussed much of what she experienced in Sanditon, save the little she divulged to John, and the even smaller bits to Allison.

No one knew his name. She hadn't uttered it at all. Not even to herself.

It soon came upon eventide, and Charlotte went to hers and Allison's room to ready herself. "Well, Charlotte. Is this the young man who has inspired all of your melancholy since your return?"

"Melancholy?" she changed out of her dress and put on a dinner frock.

"Come, Charlotte. John and I aren't blind, you know."

"Have you been discussing things with John?"

"Of course. I figured whatever you didn't tell me, you told him."

Charlotte paled as she looked at Allison. "Can you help me?" she turned so that her sister could fix her dress in the back."Whatever John has told you, it was meant for his ears."

"Well, we've been concerned. As has mother. Even the twins have noticed."

She cleared her throat. "It's not him," she said softly.

"It's not?"

Charlotte shook her head. "No," and she turned. "I doubt very much that you'll ever meet him. It simply cannot be."

"Is he married, sister?" Allison's voice was soft and tender.

"I'm not certain. Perhaps, at this point," and her voice caught. Her eyes welled…it was the first time she had been explicit, for even John only knew that a young man had been part of the source of her mood. And she felt her honesty choking her. "But Mr Stringer is a most welcome guest. He is a fine young man. I believe he's in London now, working as an apprentice for an architect."

"That's exciting," said Allison, smiling. Allison Heywood was a pretty woman, though not so much as Charlotte. She was a good deal more vapid, too. It was her overt femininity which recommended her. She sang, she played, she drew…she had many talents which she was able to showcase in company. Allison always had many admirers, and since she was now one and twenty, she was sure to be receiving offers soon.

Charlotte played, sang but little, and drew not at all. She was to be found in the garden playing cricket with John or learning to shoot. Or learning practical things, or reading books. She'd also taken to writing. "Is it?" she winked at Allison. "He's very handsome, you know."

"I'll make my own mind up," returned she, and Allison put her necklace on.

They went downstairs to find that Mr James Stringer had just arrived. He stood and bowed to the ladies. Charlotte went to him, and took his hands. "Mr Stringer. I am so pleased you've come to Willingden," her smile was broad and genuine.

"It's my pleasure, Miss Heywood," he nodded, returning her smile. "I've missed Sanditon while in London, but the thing I've missed most has been here."

"Well," she took her hands, feeling a bit ill at ease. "At any rate, I'm happy you are here."

"Let's all sit, shall we?" Ms Heywood declared.

The company sat, all smiling at Mr Stringer. It was uncomfortable for a moment.

"Tell us about London, Mr Stringer," said Charlotte.

"James, please," he nodded.

"James," she swallowed. She wasn't altogether comfortable with this familiarity…even though she had known him for a fashion, it wasn't as though…"How is London treating young proteges?"

"Well. London is going well. I think that it is something that improves on exposure. However, I cannot honestly say that it is a place I'd like stay indefinitely. I'd miss the sea air of Sanditon."

"Will you return, then?" asked Allison. "To Sanditon?"

"I'd like to very much."

Charlotte smiled at him. "No doubt they miss you."

"Yes. Some more than others, perhaps."

She did not know what he meant by this, so ignored the comment.

* * *

Dinner was a fine affair, with Mr Stringer determined to be pleased with everything. Father was taken with Mr Stringer. They exchanged stories of London.

Charlotte looked on, not knowing exactly what to make of it all.

Afterwards, Father retired to the parlor.

"Would you like to take a turn about the garden around the house?" asked James.

Charlotte looked at John, who was watching them. "Of course. John, would you join us?"

The three headed out, Charlotte in between them.

"Mr Stringer…tell me about my sister while she was in Sanditon," John, who was not as tall as James, but every bit as handsome, smiled at him.

"Would you be so guileless, John?" Charlotte laughed.

"Miss Heywood was only ever amiable. She was a constant joy to be around."

"Really?" John replied. "Charlotte was a constant joy be around."

"Don't sound so shocked, brother," she said with heat.

"Truth is, Mr Heywood, I found your sister to be the very best of the place after a spell. She was the reason for my ever having pursued a career in architecture."

"Is that so?" said John, as they headed down the lane. "Charlotte. You are something…"

"Mr Stringer…" she stopped, looking at him.

"James, please."

"Of course, I beg your pardon. James. Would you give my brother and I a few moments? Perhaps you might join my father in the parlor."

James bowed, then turned and went to the house.

Charlotte sighed, then turned to John. "Well?"

"What are you doing, Charlotte?"

"What do you mean?" she felt the blush rising on her face.

"I mean, that poor sod is in love with you. It's as plain as anything I've seen. Not that you aren't worthy of such admiration, but I'll venture to say that this is not the man who drove you from Sanditon."

She swallowed. "No," she said softly. "It wasn't."

"So you are not in love with Mr Stringer."

She felt awful. "No."

"I thought not. You should probably not lead him to false hope, Charlotte."

She couldn't disagree with that. Though she certainly hadn't experienced evidence of his regard, coming to Willingden to visit when he wasn't in the neighborhood, well. That was odd. "I'll speak with him and tell him that my heart has not changed where a certain gentleman is concerned."

"Does he know your man?" John clasped his hands behind him.

She turned and walked. "He does, yes."

"What's he like?" while they were quite close, he had known not to bother Charlotte about him. She was seldom disquieted about much, but this, he had witnessed more distress than he had ever seen previously. He thought it best to tread lightly.

"He's…" it gave her equal parts joy and sorrow to think of him. "He's reserved. But still, somewhat amusing. He's brave, and he is responsible. He is not selfish, indeed, he may be one of the most altruistic men I've known."

"What a pretty portrait. Is he handsome, along with all of these virtues?"

"He is," she said quite softly.

"Charlotte, I do not know what happened to you, but I am sorry for it. And I want my sister back so much that I'll do whatever I can to expedite that."

She smiled and turned to him. "Thank you, John," she sighed, stopping. "Perhaps we should go back now. I'll need to speak with Mr Stringer."

They arrived and found them all in the parlor, the twins prattling away at both Mr Stringer and their father.

Charlotte sat and listened to them.

Lilliana was a very handsome girl. At sixteen, she was as lovely as any woman who was out in the county. Caroline was handsome, too. As they were twins, they looked very much alike. But Lilliana's charms gave her continence an even more striking air. She had long, dark curls and wide, sparkling eyes. They were both very keen on joining society, rather desperate to escape the doldrums of managing a house and farm. Both were accomplished: they embroidered, played, sang; though none of these things did they do with vivacity. They seemed to do them out of a strange mix of boredom and competitiveness with their twin. As a result, neither one shone in their talent. But both were capable, and that seemed to be enough for both of them. In this, they were like Charlotte. Until someone remarked that Caroline's embroidery was as nice as they'd seen in the shop window, at which point Lilliana would rise to the piano forte to ensure her share of compliments.

They attempted often to join their older sisters, but were largely unsuccessful.

It wasn't because Charlotte and Allison did not like their sisters. On the contrary, they found them amusing, albeit somewhat frivolous (which both believed it had only to do with their age). But they could be loud, vying to speak over one another. And though both Liliana and Caroline were inseparable and loved each other dearly, they argued like a married couple twenty years on.

"I do long to see Sanditon, Mr Stringer," said Caroline with a wonder in her voice.

"It's quite something. Mr Tom Parker, after some hardships, has, I understand, been able to begin the rebuilding process."

"Rebuilding process?" John's brow furrowed, and he looked at Charlotte. "What caused it to fall?"

"A fire, sir. Did Charlotte not tell you?"

"Our sister has not divulged much since her return, Mr Stringer," said Allison, looking too at Charlotte.

"There was a fire," began Charlotte. "And much of what Mr Stringer and his men had been building and renovating was consumed by the fire."

"Oh how awful," exclaimed Allison. "Are you hoping to gain expertise in London and then bring it to Sanditon?"

"I imagine that that would be an end result of my apprenticeship, yes."

Charlotte took note of his non-committal response. "I'm sure everyone in Sanditon would be delighted to have you return, James."

"I'm certain that your presence would be welcome as well."

She blushed. The thought of returning to hear of Eliza Campion was not something she wished to subject herself to. "Perhaps," she shrugged.

"Well, it is a fine evening, is it not?" Charlie Heywood entered the room with the same vigor everyone was accustomed to from him.

"Charles, where have you been?" asked Ms Heywood.

"Off with some of the lads," and he took a cigar. Charlie was robust, tall, and boisterous. He wasn't altogether handsome, but no one complained about his looks. John, of the elder two brothers, was by far more attractive. But Charlie had an insatiable appetite for everything: sport. Drink. Ladies. Dance. He had no time to waste…it was as though he had a clock ticking in his mind with the time god had allotted him, and he meant to enjoy every last moment.

As a result, he was seldom at home. Charlotte thought that he needed to mature. While he of course should enjoy himself, he often left midday to have herself, John, and Allison tend to things. And the ladies who fancied him never struck him, it was always the ones who cared not one whit that he pursued. Like a game, he meant to win them, and once they had a long look at him, he was finished.

He wasn't a beast, but he teetered enough on that precipice to cause disquiet in his family.

He was now four and twenty, and Charlotte believed he needed to calm himself. She was beginning to tire of the whole of it. "Charlie, do sit and meet with Mr Stringer. He is all the way from London."

"London? Is that so?" he smiled, nodded, and sat. "And is that where you hale?"

"No sir. From Sanditon."

"Ah…yes! Where our dear Charlotte just recently arrived from. Is that how you come to be here? To visit with Charlotte?"

"Mostly, yes."

Charlie nodded. "He's a fine young man, Charlotte. He'll do nicely," he lit the cigar and sat back. "I should like to see some of this Sanditon myself. Are you to return there or to London directly?"

"Charles, really," admonished Charlotte. "You cannot simply invite yourself, nor should you make assumptions regarding Mr Stringer's visit. You do no service to yourself behaving in so presumptive a manner. Why should Mr Stringer want you for company after such a display?"

"Mr Stringer doesn't mind…do you sir?" Charlie looked at James.

"Not at all. If your sister might join us…"

Charlotte paled. "I have no intention of returning to Sanditon any time soon, Mr Stringer. But I thank you for your invitation."

"Perhaps we might work on changing her mind," said Charlie. "John, persuade her."

"I have learned not to interfere with Charlotte's resolve. It never does anyone any good."

Charlotte stood. "I think I'll go upstairs. There is a book I've been meaning to read. Mr Stringer, will we see you in the morning?"

"Yes, Miss Heywood. My plans are for a few days time here."

She nodded to the room and went upstairs.

She couldn't think of Sanditon now. She was rendered upset at the talk, and needed to escape. Her heart was beating very fast and she held herself after sitting on the edge of the bed.

Her regard for him had, if anything, intensified with absence. Perhaps she was building him up in her mind, but she couldn't help but dwell on how well suited they were, how he challenged her, and how, indeed, she challenged him. How much they had in common.

The loss she felt was acute.

And she couldn't help but wish that Mr James Stringer would leave sooner rather than later, for his presence, whether his fault or not, was a reminder of the empty feeling she could not rid herself of.

She hoped that Charlie wasn't scheming downstairs to get her to go to Sanditon.

And with that thought, she went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

It was her custom to help with the younger Heywood children in the morning. Though they were all now no younger than eight, she still fancied them quite incapable of doing things for themselves.

Allison often reminded her older sister that the littles could manage, and that she wasn't doing them any favors doting on them so.

But the five youngest, ranging from eight to fourteen, had Charlotte around their fingers. Though it must be said that fourteen year old Henry was trying her nerves, and she was apt to scold him. She was probably going to cease her close attention to him rather soon, since he was getting on in years.

The morning dawned grey, and Charlotte went downstairs after checking on Catherine, the youngest of them all. She declined breakfast, but went outside. It was a chilled air for the time of year, and Charlotte wondered at it. Perhaps there would be rain that day.

She fixed her bonnet a bit more tightly as she rounded a corner.

"Good morning, Ms Heywood."

"Oh! Good morning, Mr Stringer," she smiled broadly. "It's unfortunate that there is so much cloud cover. It doesn't bode well for the afternoon."

"No," but he seemed rather sad. Surely the weather would not provoke such a reaction!

"I'm sorry…did you have outside plans today?"

"I do not. Rather, I think that I might be holding onto some false hope, Miss Heywood."

She swallowed. "Is that so?"

"You must know," and he turned to her and took her hands. "Why I am here at Willingden."

"I …" she shook her head and furrowed her brow.

"I mean to ask you to return to Sanditon. I am wanting to begin a business there, and travel back and forth from London."

"That, Mr Stringer, is a bold plan."

"But why shouldn't I be bold? My whole life I've lived within limits. I don't mean to anymore."

She nodded. "I understand."

"You do? Because I want you to come with me. And it doesn't seem like you're willing to."

Charlotte sighed and dropped her gaze, as well as her hands. "I cannot."

"Why?"

"Because, my heart is not recovered, and I do not want to only commit partly."

"I'll wait, Charlotte," he said softly. "I've never known a lady like you, and I don't expect to meet another. If you are not ready for me, I'll wait, as long as it takes."

"Oh Mr Stringer…that is equal parts wonderful and foolish! You should not wait, for what if another lady _does_ cross your path? You are an amiable, handsome gentleman."

He blushed. "I am not accustomed to being called a gentleman, Miss Heywood."

"Well you are one, if ever I saw one!" she exclaimed.

"Come with me!" he insisted. "Bring your sister. Bring both of your brothers! But you cannot sit here idly and wait for something to happen to you. It's happening…now."

She sighed. "Get yourself to London, Mr Stringer. Come back in a fortnight, if you're able. And I will accompany you back to Sanditon, along with any sibling of mine who is agreeable."

"Thank you, Miss Heywood!" he took her hand and kissed it. "I'll leave after luncheon, as was my plan." They both turned and went back to the house.

She waved as he rode away on the coach. She wasn't certain exactly what she had agreed to, but it couldn't be helped. He was a determined young man, and Charlotte liked him very much. What's more, she had rather convinced herself that facing Sanditon again would help her recovery, and if she had Allison, and particularly John, there, well. It might help even more.

She was only mildly concerned about seeing him. _Hearing_ about him was much more likely. In fact, it was a foregone conclusion that she would. People would be discussing the wedding, even if it hadn't happened yet. This created a dull ache in her chest, but she didn't dwell on it. There would be other diversions, and she could be something of a guide to her brothers and her sister.

"I would be very happy to go to Sanditon, Charlotte. But do _you_ want to go?" Allison was brushing out her long, blonde hair. Charlotte often thought that Allison should have darker hair to pair with her fair complexion. Her light hair seemed to wash out her features, which was why, she assumed, Allison wore her hair up so much. That, and to get it out of her face while she embroidered.

"I am very happy to return, if you and John wish to accompany me. Though I must confess I do not long for such a stay this time round. Three months was too long. But it may be for naught. Let's see if Mr Stringer comes for us from London. Then we can make our minds up."

"He will come. He's in love with you," Allison replied with a matter-of-factness that irritated Charlotte slightly. When she didn't respond, Allison smiled. "I am sorry, Charlotte. It wasn't fair of me."

"No matter. I am not vexed…I simply had no idea that he had feelings for me, and now I feel like a fool. It's no one's fault but mine."

"What will you do?" she pulled her hair up and affixed some pins and a ribbon to it.

"Nothing. I cannot be what he wants me to be."

"He is a pleasant young man, though, is he not?"

"Of course he is, Allison. I've known him to be among the best of men in my acquaintance." She didn't notice Allison's smile.

* * *

The Heywood's stayed in patient wait during the fortnight of Mr Stringer's absence. Though no one admitted, least of all Charlotte, that they were anxious for his arrival.

"I rather think that the four of us should go. Wouldn't you agree, Allison?" Charlie was buttering some bread.

"Who will stay and help with the littles?"

"Why, Liliana and Caroline!" Charlie answered, a bit bemused by her question. "We have all been in constant service here. A month seeing to the littles and tending to some chores shan't hurt those girls."

"Have you, Charlie, been in constant service? I rather recall you shooting with your lads every night since I've returned home over a month ago," Charlotte looked at him scathingly. "If anyone should stay behind, I believe it's you."

"Now, why should you and your dearest John have all the fun, hm?" he winked at her. "But of course, as you like. I can stay behind. But you three should all go and enjoy the place. I daresay Mr Stringer would love all of you to go so long as Charlotte is in company."

"Oh do be quiet, Charles," Charlotte shook her head.

"What? Isn't he to your taste?"

"That is quite beside the point. I have no intention of journeying back to Sanditon with the sole purpose of securing Mr Stringer, or indeed, anyone else in marriage. Lady Denham has already grilled me about the subject, and I'm through discussing it," she ended forcefully. "Least of all in Willingden," she stood and left the table.

"Really, Charlie. Have some care," John stood and followed Charlotte out. He loved her so much, and it hurt him deeply to see her thus. Though he was full young, but nineteen, he had a maturity about him that most young men his age lacked. He did not feel close with his brother Charles, nor did he care for the same sorts of things that his own mates got up to. It wasn't that he hated sport, but his taste was more adventurous. He liked to take long rides on his horse. He enjoyed a boat ride. Long walks around the grounds and into town. He longed to walk along the beach in Sanditon and wade in the sea. He enjoyed experiences, not the silliness of shooting. Not the boredom of billiards.

He enjoyed reading too, but not so well as Charlotte. One of his favorite things to do in the summer months was to pack a lunch and bring a book or two. They'd find a spot and she'd read to him until she couldn't, and then he'd take a long walk. Often she'd find him once he started back, but sometimes she wouldn't. He loved her company.

He was too young yet to inquire after ladies, but Charlotte had told him numerous times that he would have no trouble. Apparently, he was handsome. He did not pay much mind to such things. Consequently, he did not pay much attention to lovely ladies. He was much more interested in how they spoke, what they spoke about, that sort of thing. So, he was a rarity among men.

"Charlotte!" he called after her as she strode angrily through the park.

She turned and folded her arms. "He is something. I don't understand him at all."

"Oh, come. He's the same Charlie as ever."

"That's precisely the point. He never changes! He's four and twenty, almost five, and look at him! All of the mates he gets on with are your age. It's ridiculous."

"But there something comforting about it, is there not? A constancy which isn't unwelcome," John smiled.

"Stop it," and Charlotte batted his arm, then slid it through hers. "Do you want to go to Sanditon, John?"

"I …don't know. I hadn't thought about it really."

"Allison wants to. I think she might fancy Mr Stringer," Charlotte was animated in her observation.

"But he likes you, doesn't he?"

"He does. But I cannot return his feeling."

John sighed deeply. "Will you not tell me what happened, Charlotte?"

She swallowed. Perhaps she should let go of the story…perhaps it wouldn't be as painful as she imagined it. "Let's sit over here," she pointed to a tree, and they sat on the soft grass beneath it. "Do you recall the fire we spoke of?"

And so she began. She told him about Georgiana Lambe and Lady Denham. About how she befriended Georgiana and how Sidney Parker objected at the outset…

And how she slowly began to see him differently. How she played cricket and Georgiana escaped and about Mr Molanieu.

She told him about how she became attracted to Sidney.

How he had told her she made him his best self.

And how she believed he was going to propose to her.

How he stopped her carriage and told her he didn't love Ms Campion.

And there were a few tears. "And I never told him, John. I never said the words…because I thought it would only hurt worse, but I was wrong. Nothing, no matter what I've avoided, has hurt worse than this."

"Oh, Charlotte. What you've been through. I had no idea it was so elaborate."

"No. Of course not. But here we are. And now you know. And I don't know if he's married, but I can only assume that he is by this point," it felt odd and somewhat liberating to talk about all of it.

"Well, it's unwise to assume things, Charlotte. You'd be well advised to refrain from such an enterprise."

"But that was where I left it, and of course I must assume that they're either married or well on their way."

John nodded. "If it gives you comfort to be resigned."

"It's better than false hope."

"Is it?"

"Why of course it is! I cannot imagine giving in to such hope, only having to relive the agony of these weeks all over again."

He smiled and took her hand. "I am sorry. Money is an evil thing, Charlotte."

"It is. It causes so much discord and discontent that I wonder at it not being abolished altogether," and she took her hand away, and stood. "Would you go then, to Sanditon?"

John stood as well. "If you like, yes. I am always happy for an adventure, and the sea is not something I've much enjoyed thus far in life."

"Of course I like," she turned and walked back to the house.

* * *

It had been settled, then. Charlotte, John, and Allison were to travel to Sanditon if and when Mr Stringer arrived.

Charlie was not upset, for he claimed he'd get there eventually.

"It isn't fair, Momma!" cried Lilliana. "Why must we be saddled with Charlie? He'll be out before luncheon every day."

"Now, Lilly," said Charlie. "I won't abandon you and Caroline. But the littles are not so little any longer. Surely you've noticed."

"I don't understand why John must go. Charlie needs a wife more than John," muttered Caroline.

"I am not going to find myself a wife, Caroline," said John.

"But perhaps Charlie would benefit from such an enterprise," she observed.

"Your machinations will not work, sister," smiled Charlie. "I am staying. I'll visit the place come autumn, or some such thing. No matter. We can manage things here, isn't that so, Lilly?"

"Humph," replied Lilliana and she left the room.

Ms Heywood shook her head. "How long will you three be gone?"

"But a month," said Charlotte. "Three months was far too long. What's more, we are to stay in the hotel, and simply cannot afford to stay longer."

"Well, I hope Mr Stringer returns soon, for everyone's sake," and she stood.

Ms Heywood got her wish, for the very next day, Mr Stringer arrived. The three Heywood children who were leaving had already packed and been prepared for the journey for a few days, so there was no waiting. They loaded into the coach and were off the following day.

"Are you excited to be returning, Mr Stringer?" asked Allison.

"Part of me is, yes. I do love the place."

"There is nothing like it," observed Charlotte. "It will be interesting to see if it's changed at all over the course of these six or seven weeks."

"Well, I should hope that some things have changed. Clean up and such after the fire."

Charlotte swallowed. "Yes of course." She had not divulged as much to Allison about the fire, or indeed, anything. She assumed that she would have the opportunity before they left, but it had not presented itself, after all. No matter, once they arrive they can speak.

The journey was a long one, and once she smelled the sea, she felt a pang. Nerves ignited in her, and she was suddenly positive she had made a dreadful mistake. Her palms began to sweat and her breathing quickened.

John noticed and took her hand furtively. "It'll be all right," he whispered.

"Of course it will," but her face said otherwise. "I just need to rest when we get there."

He nodded. "How much longer, Mr Stringer?" there was a note of concern in his voice.

"But a quarter of an hour," and he looked at Charlotte. "Ms Heywood, are you well?"

She nodded. "I am, thank you."

They arrived in the town and drove up to the hotel, which had been spared from the flames. The place had been cleaned, and there was some work being done, though not as much as Charlotte had remembered.

She felt weak as John helped her out of the carriage and Mr Stringer retrieved the bags. She wanted only to lie down and rest.

Had she made an error in judgement returning so soon? If he was here, what would he think of her? Did she want to see him, or avoid him? Would she be disappointed if he was in London for the duration of her stay?

Charlotte Heywood had no answers as she climbed the stairs to hers and her sister's room. She did not speak as she listened to John and James Stringer discuss her. She ignored Allison's queries but accepted water when she sat by the window in their room.

Her thoughts turned and were mired by feelings equal parts of dread and anticipation…Sidney Parker had no name to her for over a month. He was simply the man whom she loved but could never be with in any meaningful way.

But now he was real again.

He had a name again.

And even if she did not cross his path, he would be her constant companion during the month she was there in Sanditon.


	3. Chapter 3

Sydney Parker did not hate London, but it cannot be said that he liked it. He enjoyed it in small spurts, perhaps a weekend… or four or five days; but then it must be followed by a lengthy time away from it. Whether it be time on the moors, the sea, or the rolling hills of the countryside…he did not care.

But he needed the time away, for he was apt to become claustrophobic and irritable. If, he could indeed, become even more irritable than was his custom.

That, he believed, was the issue. He had been in London far too long.

Eliza had been working tirelessly on their wedding. Except when she wasn't. And, he had noted, her vigor had waned the last week or so.

London, over the month he had been away from Sanditon, had been a grueling experience. He had been forced to make conversation with people he did not know, nor did he wish to know them.

And to watch Eliza with some measure of delight at his own misery, plan his future.

He had succumbed utterly to her whim, for he could not manage to engage himself in the business. He had felt helpless, and he was too distracted to change it.

And so, when he happened upon Mr James Stringer while on a walk to escape the confines of his London house, he was shocked a bit out of his nihilistic melancholy. For he was reminded of a time when he was happier.

"Mr Stringer. What are you doing in London?"

"I am here on an apprenticeship. I hope to become an architect, sir."

Sidney nodded. "Is that so? And will you take your business to Sanditon?"

"I hope to, yes." They walked together for a bit, catching up. "Are you married yet, Mr Parker?"

Sidney flashed an unhappy smile. "I am not. The business of planning a wedding has proven to be much more involved than I expected."

"Perhaps brides vary, sir. And your own bride is wanting something elaborate."

He nodded. "Quite. Just so."

"I should like something simple, if ever I'm blessed with a fiancee."

Sidney swallowed. He recalled seeing him look at Charlotte on more than one occasion. "And is there a particular lady who inspires these reflections?"

"Miss Charlotte Heywood."

He stopped. He felt his heart thrum against his ribcage. His mouth went dry and he felt his hands shake. "Miss…"

"Heywood, sir. You remember her, I'm certain."

"Of course I do. Have you been in contact with her?" his voice sounded not his own.

"No. But I am planning on visiting her soon, sir," and he started to walk again.

"Is that right?" his brow was furrowed and he had a time finding his footing.

"Yes. Do you think I'll receive a favorable answer?"

"Are you intending to make an offer of marriage to her?" he stopped again.

"Yes sir. And return with her to Sanditon."

Sidney swallowed. Had he heard this news before Charlotte had entered his life and upended it, he would have hit James Stringer in the face. But, he thought then that she would disapprove, and he could not bear to disappoint her. He had done this. No need to impede her own happiness. "I …do not know what her answer will be. But I wish you the best," he nearly choked on the words.

"It means a great deal to have your blessing, Mr Parker. I know that Miss Heywood grew on you, and that you came to admire her."

Sidney nodded. "She is the very best lady of my acquaintance."

"Better even than Ms Campion?" he smirked slightly.

His gaze fell. "Yes," he muttered. And then, "Well, it was fortuitous that we met, Mr Stringer. Please give my best to Miss Heywood when you see her."

"Will you be returning to Sanditon any time soon yourself, sir?"

"I do not know. It largely depends on where we are with the preparations," he nodded. "Good day," and he turned and left him there.

That was three weeks ago now. And he felt no less ill every time he thought about it. But thought on it he did, and his perseveration on the episode made him nearly mad with distraction.

How could it be otherwise? How could he deny her a chance at happiness when he had robbed her of it? Robbed himself? How could he be so selfish to try and stop her from making a match, especially if she was fond of Mr Stringer?

But…James Stringer! He would not challenge Charlotte the way she needed to be challenged. He would not be able to match her wit. Her biting observations. He would be lost on her subjects of conversation. Would he walk the clifftops with her at dawn? Would he hold her hand as they strode the seashore?

And he thought if Stringer did those things, he'd die. To imagine Charlotte in the arms of an apprentice…or indeed of anyone who wasn't him, made him pale and irascible. His stomach was in knots. He needed out of London, for it was killing him slowly.

The thought of Charlotte Heywood marrying James Stringer was doing the job much more quickly. He had been too much in his own head to give much thought to Charlotte finding happiness with anyone else.

He walked into the parlor with James Stringer on his mind. It had been three weeks. Surely they weren't married yet.

And what he was about to do was equal parts desperate and villainous.

"Eliza," said he, as he approached her spot by the window.

"Sidney," she held out her hand and he kissed it. "Where have you been?"

"Nothing. Reading…" it was mostly true. He had been sitting and staring at a book for the better part of two hours. "I am come to tell you that I'm leaving for Sanditon tomorrow."

"What?" she assumed a smile.

"I need to escape the confines of London, and since the wedding preparations are well in hand, it makes sense for me to go before I am much needed."

"But you are much needed now," she stood.

"Come, Eliza. We both know that is not true. Allow me a fortnight with my brother before we are wed. And I shall return to London well refreshed and eager to get on with things."

She sighed. "Very well. A fortnight in Sanditon. You will write, won't you, Sidney?"

"Of course I shall," and his kissed her mouth softly, bowed, and turned to ready himself for the journey back the following day.

* * *

Charlotte slept a bit later than was her custom. She rose to find Allison gone and the sun full in the sky.

She went downstairs to the lobby of the hotel and found John there, sipping tea. "Good morning, Charlotte," he stood and gestured for her to sit opposite him.

"Hello," and she sat. "Where is Allison?"

"She is off with Mr Stringer. I believe he offered to show her the shore."

"Oh good," she smiled.

John hesitated briefly. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I am. I cannot account for my reaction yesterday. I believe that…" she swallowed. "I suppose that Sidney suddenly became real again, instead of dwelling almost completely in my mind."

"Well, he's not here. He's in London."

"He is? How are you come to know this?"

"I heard Mr Stringer speaking with one of his friends before he left with Allison. Apparently he saw him recently there."

She nodded. "Very good," and she stood. "I long for some fresh air, John."

"Would you like some company?"

"No…perhaps later. For now, I'd rather reminisce about my time here a couple of months ago and enjoy the sea air," she put on her bonnet, smiled, and left her beloved brother there.

She walked along the familiar path which led to the shoreline. It felt good to be walking along, exercising and drinking in Sanditon once more. She had missed the place, even though she had dwelled almost exclusively on one of her inhabitants.

As she walked, she recognized Allison and Mr Stringer approaching. She waved at them and they strode up to her. "Charlotte!" exclaimed Allison. "How good to see you up and about. Mr Stringer was kind enough to walk with me along the shore. Isn't it lovely?"

"It's just as I remember it," she smiled. "Thank you for taking my sister when I couldn't, Mr Stringer," she turned and fell into step with the pair.

"I do wish you'd call me James, miss. But it was my pleasure. Miss Allison Heywood is a delightful companion."

"She is," agreed Charlotte. "And the sea is every bit as lovely as I recall."

"It is something, is it not?" said Allison with fervor. "Everything about it is lovely."

"I'm so pleased you like it," said Mr Stringer.

The trio walked along for some time, with James and Allison engaged in much of the conversation had. They ventured back into town after a fashion. "I need to get back and write to Momma, Charlotte. I had promised her a letter after our arrival."

"Well…shall you walk ahead, then?"

"Yes. Will I see you before dinner this evening Mr Stringer?"

"Probably not, Miss Heywood. But I do look forward to seeing you then."

She curtseyed and left Charlotte to walk with him. "Allison is a fine companion," remarked Charlotte.

"She comes of fine stock."

Charlotte laughed. "What a way to put it, Mr Stringer!"

And he returned her laugh.

…and further down the street, Mr Sidney Parker was dismounting his horse, and happened to glance up.

There she was.

His heart all but ceased its beat. There she was…the object of his distraction, and his misery. Of his joy and his laughter. All that was light and heavy in his soul. She was as much as a dichotomy to him as ever he had one. And she was there, in the flesh…

But then he noticed her companion, and he paled. She was laughing with James Stringer. Laughing, as she had laughed once with him.

"Mr Parker, are you stopping in town long?" his man was inquiring about what to do with his horse.

"I …" he found he could not answer. His mind was filled with something else. He turned back to see her looking at him. Her eyes were wide. Her brow was raised. Her face was pale, and her lips just parted.

She was a vision.

"Miss Heywood? Are you well?"

Charlotte swallowed, but found her mouth bone dry. She was staring at Sidney Parker. Sidney Parker, who had seen her, and was looking at her. Sidney Parker, who was not moving, just as she was not moving. She took a half step back. "I need water. I need to get inside…"

"Of course! Allow me to…"

She felt faint. Oh, why did she come? Dreadful mistake. "Please excuse me…" she stumbled out of his grasp and turned down an alley. Everything was swimming…she had little balance…she was going to fall and she knew it. How humiliating! To be rendered thus from only just seeing him. She was more herself weeks ago when she found herself face to face with both him and Eliza Campion…and then to suffer her ridicule.

But absence had softened her, and she was weak and pale with heartache.

Down another street, and pushing herself through a few groups of people…

She did not know where she was going, but only to get away from him and Mr Stringer. Oh, _where_ was John? Where was the hotel?

And she wiped her brow, and stumbled…

And someone caught her.

"Charlotte," said a deep voice.

_Oh no._ Without really needing to, she looked up. She felt his hands tight on her arms, his face was bent to hers, concern etched on his features. "Mr Parker," she said, collecting herself, and pulling herself away.

"You're unwell."

"Am I? Fancy you knowing that without even speaking with me."

He dropped his gaze. "Apologies. Are you unwell?"

"I am overheated from my recent walk along the shoreline."

"Can I help?" he looked at her once more.

"No thank you," but she didn't move. It felt wonderful to be in his presence.

He nodded. "No. Of course not."

"Are you here…" she swallowed. "Are you in Sanditon for wedding preparation reasons?"

"No, indeed I'm not. I am here to escape wedding preparations."

She smiled. "Oh, I see. I expect it is tiresome for a gentleman."

"It would be tiresome for any sensible person, Miss Heywood."

Charlotte nodded, and looked at him with a fierce longing she didn't know she was conveying. "I am sorry."

"As am I," he cleared his throat. "Forgive me. Are you visiting here?"

"I am, yes. With my brother and sister."

He nodded. "I would very much like to make their acquaintance, if you are agreeable."

"That is up to Mr Stringer, as we are his guests."

Sidney's back went up. "Mr Stringer's guests. Is that so?"

"Yes it is. He called upon me at Willingden."

He let out a small, almost inaudible gasp. "And…" he stopped himself. He wanted desperately to know if she was engaged, but knew that this was none of his business. "Well. He is a happy man to be fortunate with such company as yours."

"Thank you, Mr Parker. Is Ms Campion here with you?"

He looked at her quite deliberately. "She is not."

Charlotte nodded. "It must be painful to be parted from your intended," she said, and she hated herself for it.

And he felt the pang of her comment. "Only when I think about it."

"It's constant then, is it?"

"No," he replied decidedly.

She felt silly for the comment, and wished she could retract it. "Forgive me, Mr Parker. I spoke out of turn. I should get back to the hotel, I'm sure that my brother and sister are missing me."

"Can I walk back with you?"

She hesitated for a brief moment. "Of course," and she turned, still feeling a bit unsteady on her feet.

"I …I did not expect to see you," he observed.

"I hope the reality is not unwelcome."

"How could that possibly be?" he said softly.

"Because you are engaged," she was direct, if nothing else.

He stopped. "She is driving me to madness, Charlotte," he said with an edge to his voice.

And she stopped. "How?"

"Because…" _I don't love her_…but she had already forbade him to say that. "I long for clifftop walks and discussions of books." There. Obvious yet veiled.

Charlotte's heart hurt. "I could see the attraction in those things."

"Yes," he walked quite close to her without touching. "I thought you might."

They reached the hotel quicker than she would have thought and found John outside, looking up and down the street. He saw Charlotte and ran to her. "Mr Stringer is out looking for you! He said that you ran off…" and he then looked at Sidney. "John Heywood," he nodded.

"Sidney Parker," he offered his hand.

John clandestinely glanced at Charlotte as he grasped Sidney's hand. "You found my sister, then?"

"I did. I was most happy to see her. We were acquainted when she was last in Sanditon."

John nodded. "How very lucky."

"My brother John dotes on his siblings so…much like yourself, Mr Parker."

"Nothing like family," Sidney observed. "I hope you will come and visit with Mr Tom Parker and his family…perhaps tomorrow?"

"I'd love to see them," said Charlotte.

"Miss Heywood!" James Stringer came running down the street. "Oh, thank goodness," he smiled, then looked at Sidney. "Mr Parker," his voice was stilted.

"Mr Stringer," Sidney nodded. "Well. It appears that everything is well in hand," he turned to leave after a bow. "I hope to see you tomorrow."

Charlotte watched him leave.

"Are you quite well, Miss Heywood?" James was concerned, she could tell.

"Thank you, yes. I am well. But I need to get inside. John, will you come?"

Her brother nodded and followed her into the hotel. "Are you well, Charlotte?"

"Fine. I'm fine," she sat and took some water. "That was upsetting, though. Hopefully things will be better now that we've had our initial meeting."

"My goodness, sister. What have you done to those poor men?" he laughed.

"I don't know what you mean."

"They are both so in love with you that neither can see straight," he shook his head.

"Stop it, John. Do not tease me."

"Indeed, I do not. But what shall you do?"

"What can I do? Sidney is engaged."

John sat back. "Not married?"

"No."

He smiled. "Perhaps he is delaying intentionally."

"You are too optimistic. Sidney Parker needs Eliza's fortune to help his brother. Nothing, not even his heart, can or should deter him," she sipped. "And what good would delaying do? Tom needs the money now."

"Well, there is more to heaven and earth than our science can tell us, Charlotte. At least, that's what Hamlet said."

"Hamlet went mad," she returned.

"Aren't we all?"

And he sat there with his sister for a spell, thinking that something has got to give where she was concerned. And he hoped that it would.


	4. Chapter 4

"Miss Charlotte Heywood is here?"

Sidney nodded, then sipped his wine. "Apparently she only just arrived yesterday with two of her siblings."

Tom Parker sat across from his brother at the hearth in the parlor. "Well, that is a pleasant surprise. Have you had occasion to see her?"

"I did, and I invited her to come here tomorrow. I hope that's agreeable to you."

"Of course, of course," Tom sat back. "Sidney, I've been thinking… would your ward, Miss Lambe…would she be able to help at all with the reconstruction?"

"You want Georgiana to give you the money?" he sounded quite put off.

"As a loan, of course. I only wonder at you marrying Ms Campion, Sidney. It leaves me feeling ill at ease. It seems as though you are not as fond as you once were."

"What inspired these reflections?"

"Mary. She told me that Ms Campion and you appeared, as time went on, less than enamored."

Sidney sighed deeply. "I'm so far in, Tom. And now you choose to tell me this? And as my ward, I cannot advise Georgiana to relinquish her fortune so that I may avoid a marriage of convenience."

Tom Parker leaned forward. "Are you in love with Charlotte Heywood?"

He looked at his brother very deliberately, and cleared his throat. "I came here to Sanditon for this next fortnight to see her. I had it on some authority that she might be here for a stay, and I needed to see her. It was selfish, I know. But I am a selfish man, and I thought not of my fiancee, or indeed, of how my presence might effect Miss Heywood. I wanted to be near her, and enjoy her presence, while I still am able," he dropped his gaze. "Until my future wife has utter control over me."

Tom's face fell somewhat. "And is she in love with you?"

Sidney sat back. "Mr James Stringer has brought her here, and he means to propose an offer of marriage."

Tom's face went blank. "What will she say?"

"It's not for me to surmise. I have no idea. Though it pains me to admit it, it is none of my business, and I will live with that for the rest of my life," Sidney rubbed his face.

"But if there was another way, brother…if we could acquire the money in some other way…"

"There is no other way, Tom!" he shouted. He sighed. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. But I cannot risk not getting you the money to save Sanditon."

Tom shook his head. "I've ruined your chance at happiness, Sidney. I am an awful person."

"Stop it, Tom. Of course you're not," he lit a cigar.

"I feel awful…"

"Well, perhaps that is our lot in life. To feel awful," and Sidney Parker sat back. "I mean to try and forget Ms Campion while I'm here. Perhaps you can assist me in that venture."

He nodded. "Of course."

* * *

Charlotte fixed her bonnet.

"How far is the walk, Charlotte?" asked Allison.

"Not far. It won't take a quarter of an hour."

"And Mr Sidney Parker will be there..?"

"I assume so."

Allison nodded, with a slightly knowing expression on her face.

Charlotte didn't like it. She hadn't told Allison anything, and unless John had, Allison was then surmising things about her heart that she meant to keep to herself. "Ready?"

Allison stood. "John is meeting us outside."

The sisters walked downstairs and met John Heywood by the front door.

He nodded to them…"It should be interesting to meet Mr Tom Parker," he observed. "All of the care he's put into creating this town…"

"He is nothing if not dedicated," replied Charlotte.

"Is Mr Stringer coming, Charlotte?" asked Allison.

"He said he would be there later, as he had business to tend to for his apprenticeship."

"Is he really traveling between Sussex and London?" John sounded awestruck.

"Yes. So he won't be here every day, obviously."

"How long is the trip?" Allison inquired.

"About five hours."

John laughed. "People here in Sanditon have ambition to spare. Perhaps we ought to invite Charlie after all in hopes of some of it effecting him."

Charlotte laughed. "Indeed. I wish I had thought of that, John." They approached Trafalgar House, and her breath hitched somewhat. She admonished herself, for she believed she had gotten over the worst of it. Evidently, she had been mistaken.

The Heywood's walked up to the house.

"Good afternoon!" Charlotte turned to see Tom Parker striding toward them.

"Mr Parker!" she exclaimed, and went to him, taking his hands and kissing his cheek. "Oh, it is good to see you."

"Delighted, Miss Heywood. How long have you been away, now? The time just flies away from me."

"Not two months yet."

"Well, it seems an age."

Charlotte had no response to this. "Mr Parker, allow me to introduce my brother John Heywood," she gestured at John, who bowed. "And my sister Allison," Allison Heywood curtseyed.

"What a pleasure," said Tom. "Won't you all come in?"

Charlotte swallowed, smiled, and followed behind Tom and her brother. Allison slipped her arm around hers. "Oh, Charlotte. This is exciting, is it not?"

"Likely more so for you, Allison. Trafalgar House was my home for three months," she smiled.

The company walked into the parlor. "I'll have cook fetch some tea," said Tom. "Please, make yourselves at home."

The three Heywood siblings sat around and admired the room. "What a magnificent place," cooed Allison.

"It's very fine," said John. "I find it to be most agreeably situated. But there is only so much anyone can say about a room. One should be equally interested in the inhabitants," he looked at Charlotte. "Is Tom Parker a man worthy of admiration?"

"He is a fine man," said Charlotte. "I've never known him to be anything other than affable," she paused. It was _his_ mistake which cost her her happiness with Sidney. He had been untruthful with his wife…"Though an imperfect man, to be sure."

"Who can claim perfection who isn't also a liar, Miss Heywood?" Sidney Parker came striding into the room.

She felt herself ill at ease at his emerging. "Well, one should strive for perfection, wouldn't you say?" she smiled as he sat across from her.

"But then you still would not be perfect," he smiled. "Will you introduce me to the lady?" he looked at Allison.

"Of course. Mr Parker, this is my sister Allison Heywood. Allison, this is Mr Sidney Parker."

He stood, went to her, and took her hand. Then bowed. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Heywood. Mr Heywood, so good to see you again," he nodded at John.

"Pleasure is mine," replied John.

"Where might Ms Mary Parker be, Mr Parker?" asked Charlotte.

"She is off running errands with the children, and will return before supper," he sat back down.

"Oh good. I do long to see her," Charlotte was effected in her response.

"Trafalgar House holds a unique place in the hearts of many who visit," said Sidney.

"Indeed. I have missed its charms."

"As have I. London is tiresome, and I found myself longing for the open air of Sanditon. As well as the company of the people whose society I've enjoyed," he looked at Charlotte with a distinct stare.

She swallowed. "I also have delighted in the company at Trafalgar House," she didn't know exactly how to respond.

He smiled. "I am glad to her it."

They heard Tom Parker walking briskly through the hall to the parlor. "Oh, Sidney! So happy you're here for tea," Tom clapped his hands, scanned the room, and then, "Mr Heywood, would you and Miss Allison Heywood enjoy a quick tour of the grounds? Trafalgar House has many lovely vistas and gardens to explore. Miss Charlotte is already intimately acquainted with all of it."

"I'd love to," said Allison, standing.

"Are you certain you're fine here, Charlotte? You would not like to join us?" asked John.

"Ah…perhaps I'll catch you up in a bit," she replied. She felt as though she was being trifled with, and though she did want to spend time with Sidney after all, she did not want to admit it freely.

And Sidney's heart welled at her announcement. She would not have stayed if she hated him…she was not the type of person to put herself through that; which meant she wanted to stay with him. He watched as the company left, then swallowed. He looked up at her to find her looking very directly at him. "It is so good to see you, Miss Heywood."

"Yes. Well, it is…" she paused. "It is good to see you too," which it was. But complicated.

"How is Willingden?"

"Very fine. For nothing ever happening there."

He chuckled. "I should very much like to see it someday."

"That would be lovely, excepting the likelihood of your living in London, and never having occasion to travel beyond Sanditon to see your family."

"Yes, well. Apart from that," he looked at his feet. "Have you been able to visit with Georgiana?"

"No. How is she?"

"As I understand, she is lonesome."

This made her sad. She did lament the fact that she never offered her a proper parting…but her mind was so full of the gentleman sitting opposite her…"I'll call tomorrow," she said with resolve.

"I am happy to hear it. Perhaps I could join you."

Charlotte looked at him crookedly. "If you like."

"I would, yes."

"How long do you anticipate your stay here to be?"

He sat back. "I have a fortnight in Sanditon. And you?"

"A month. Mr Stringer desired it to be longer, but we simply cannot afford the hotel, nor the cost of leaving my older brother to care for the little ones," she smiled.

"Mr Stringer desired a longer stay, did he?" he felt his skin pulsing with jealousy.

"He did," her brow raised. "Is it impossible that he should like the society of my siblings and I?"

"On the contrary, you mistake me. I find it wholly believable," he leaned forward. "And that is my concern."

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't…"

He stood. "I'll see to the tea. Will you find your brother and sister then?"

"Yes…" she watched him leave and then stood. What could he mean by that? What was his concern? That Mr Stringer enjoyed their company…?

And then it dawned on her.

He was jealous.

Odious man! How could he? She shoved the bonnet on her head and slammed the door behind her. How could he be jealous? After he left her and became engaged to one of the most vile…

…stop it, Charlotte. Ms Campion loves Sidney. It's not her fault that her husband passed and left her his fortune.

She slowed her pace, deep in thought. It was curious that he should be here without his fiancee. She wondered a bit at it. He seemed less than enthusiastic at the wedding planning. But then most men, she supposed, weren't.

And he did tell her six weeks ago that he did not love Ms Campion.

She found her bother and sister and Tom, then walked back with them, hanging back with John. "He's jealous, I think, John."

"Jealous? Of?"

"Mr Stringer."

"Ah yes. Well, it's obvious Mr Stringer has intentions where you are concerned, Charlotte."

"I don't know. He and Allison actually seem much more suited, don't you agree?"

John laughed. "I don't pretend to be a matchmaker."

She smiled at him, and slid her arm through his. "Do you like him?"

"Sidney Parker?" he said softly. "He's sullen and taciturn. He's well spoken. Well enough to look at. You balance one another nicely, for I imagine he requires someone with a healthy constitution to keep him in check."

Charlotte smiled broadly. "But it is for nothing," she said it more for herself than him.

"So it would seem," John replied, as they entered into the house. "But perceptions are often wrong, Charlotte. Yet I must tell you. At the very least, put poor Mr Stringer out of his misery."

"Yes…of course. I am such a knave, John!"

"And why, Miss Heywood, would a lady such as yourself be knavish?" Sidney smiled at her, his hands folded in front of him as she walked into the dining area where the tea was made.

"Eavesdropping does not become you, Mr Parker," she smiled, and she went and sat at the small table by the window.

Sidney knew she was joking, but he didn't respond to her comment. He seated himself next to John at a table just along the wall. "How are you liking Trafalgar House? Sanditon in general?"

"Very much," smiled John. "Though I haven't been here long, everyone has been accommodating and pleasant."

He nodded. "Have you had the opportunity to walk the shoreline?"

"Not yet. I'm hoping to after supper this evening," John sipped. "And you're in from London, Mr Parker?"

"I am, yes."

"What brings you here? Family visits only?"

Sidney cleared his throat. "I'm actually…" he smiled. "Forgive me. Might I speak plainly, Mr Heywood?"

"Please do. I much prefer it."

"I am avoiding wedding preparations."

"You're engaged, then?"

"I am, yes. To a Ms Eliza Campion."

John sat back. "Well, congratulations. And you are planning, and avoiding the wedding? Doesn't seem terribly agreeable."

"Beg your pardon, which do you mean? Planning a wedding, or avoiding planning a wedding?" Sidney smiled.

"Either one," laughed John. "Is it tiresome?"

"Very much."

"And does you bride find it to be so?"

"I'm not certain. We have not discussed it much," Sidney sipped, then thought he should change the subject. "You are all here as Mr James Stringer's guests, is that right?"

"We are indeed," smiled John.

"He is a nice enough fellow, from what I know of him."

"I like him. He's very taken with Charlotte, but you mustn't say anything," John lowered his voice.

"And…" Sidney's voice fell too. "Miss Heywood, is she taken as well?"

"Difficult to say, really," John sat back. "She's not one to let on much."

He furrowed his brow. Charlotte had always been rather forthcoming he thought. "No? In my experience, she has been rather open about her views."

"Her views, yes. Her heart, not so much."

Sidney paled. "Of course."

John smiled. "But then, Charlotte and I do not divulge everything to one another. I'm certain that there are instances wherein she would speak, if it involved another person."

He nodded. He wanted to ask John if she was engaged, though he believed she wasn't. But then he wanted to know if John believed she would accept such a proposal from James Stringer. "Does your sister have a pragmatic view of marriage?"

"Which? Charlotte?" he looked at her. Charlotte was speaking with Tom Parker, and they were very much engaged. "I think…I think she is more of a romantic…"

Sidney exhaled slowly.

"But that's not to say that she would not ever behave in a manner which would suit her life sensibly."

He ground his teeth, and looked over at Charlotte. Stop it, Sidney. Stop being vexed over the possibility of her marital happiness. _You_ came here to see her. Now, here she is. "Yes. Of course that makes sense."

"What are your plans this evening for supper, Mr Parker?" John smiled.

Sidney liked him very much, and he allowed himself to dwell a moment on the idea of having John Heywood as a brother. "I have no fixed plans."

"Then you must join us! We are to sup at the hotel. Last evening I dined there and found it to be delightful in a way I had not anticipated."

He smiled. "Did your sisters agree?"

"Well, Allison, who never finds fault with anything, liked it. Charlotte was unfortunately ill, and did not eat last evening."

Sidney's brow furrowed. He looked at Charlotte. She had been ill? Had seeing him rendered her thus? Was he being completely unfair to her? "I'd be most happy to have supper with you at the hotel. Will Mr Stringer be joining you?"

"I'm not sure. I imagine it depends on the work he has…we are all going for a walk, Mr Parker, after we leave Trafalgar House. Perhaps you might meet us at the hotel at six?"

"Excellent," he nodded, then looked at Charlotte.

She happened to be looking at him, too.

And their hearts both stopped as their eyes locked on each other.


	5. Chapter 5

John was beside himself as he walked along the shoreline. It had been many years since he'd seen the sea, and this time around was anything but disappointing. The sun was setting on the warm summer day, and the low light feathered across the ripples in the water. He was quite content with things, and heading back to the hotel for supper was almost as agreeable as this leisurely stroll with his sisters.

Yet they did not seem so happily engaged. He was quite lost in his thoughts, so hadn't been paying attention to what was being discussed. But when he heard Charlotte's voice, his attention turned.

"Is it that obvious, Allison?" she cried (though it must be said that it wasn't an outright cry, more like a whine, which was most unbecoming and not at all like Charlotte).

"No!" replied Allison, aghast. "John, do help me convince our sister that she's being much too sensitive."

"I'm being sensitive?"

Allison stopped. "Please, Charlotte. You asked my opinion, and I gave it. That's all."

But when John looked at Charlotte, he could see that she was quite upset. He took her hand. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "Allison somehow discovered that Mr Parker meant to propose marriage to me."

He looked at Allison. He had _not_ said anything to her. "How have you come to know this?"

"But that's not what's upsetting. She says that it's obvious that I'm in love with him."

"All I said was that it was obvious that the two of you enjoy a healthy banter. That's all. I swear to it," Allison's countenance was twisted with anguish.

John looked at Charlotte. "Are you well, dearest?"

"No," she whispered. "I'm not."

He looked at her intently, then turned to Allison. "Can you go ahead, Allison? Tell Mr Stringer, if he's there, that I'm taking care of Charlotte… and if Mr Sidney Parker is there," he looked at Charlotte. "What would you like her to tell him?"

"Tell him that I'll be by later."

He nodded, and Allison left. "It hurts still, does it? Seeing Sidney did not assuage the pain."

"Not in the slightest. I don't know what he means, being here. He has a wedding to see to! Why did he come, and why am I so happy to see him, when I know nothing will come of it?"

"Because you love him," John said simply. "You cannot even run the risk of not seeing him when you are unwell over the business, and he is the cause of your distress."

"You're right," she whispered.

"Charlotte, what do you want to do? Shall we avoid seeing Mr Parker, or…?"

"No," she returned quickly. Charlotte looked out into the sea. She had no idea what to do. What she thought she should do, she didn't believe she had the bravery for. She wanted to simply be near Sidney…to be in his company.

But she also thought that it was killing her to do it.

And perhaps his heart was not so touched, for he seemed to be seeking her out, if she didn't know better. Therefore it pained him but little to see her. And that was no solace to her mind. "No…" and she looked at John, and smiled at him. "Like it or not, I do love him. And that makes me long to see him, whether it is painful or otherwise. I do wish that I could be stronger, but I'm unable to be."

He took her hand. "Charlotte…you are too severe on yourself. I think you are incredibly strong to be able to speak with him freely."

"You said that he loves me. Do you still believe that?"

"I do, yes."

"Not that it matters," her faced flushed and she dropped his hand and her gaze, "But it feels good to not be alone. That he, too, feels some measure of the horror in my heart."

"If I would not hang, and I did not like him, I'd kill him for you," John said softly.

"You like him, John?"

"Despite myself, I do. Yes."

"Then I know that he is a good man," and Charlotte slipped her arm through his, and they walked back to the hotel.

* * *

Sidney was sitting in one of the lobby's comfortable cushioned chairs when he saw Allison enter. He stood, and looked for Charlotte, but she wasn't there. He smiled and nodded to Allison.

Allison, who then joined him. "Mr Parker," she smiled.

"Miss Heywood. How was the shore?" he stood.

"Very fine," she replied. "I must tell you that my sister and John are on their way. They were delayed for a moment."

"Is everything all right?"

"I believe so, yes," she paused. "Have you had the chance to see Mr Stringer?"

He swallowed. "I have not had that pleasure."

…and at that moment the concierge came over, holding a piece of paper. "Miss Heywood?" he said.

"Yes?"

"This is a message from Mr James Stringer," and he handed it to her.

Allison took it and opened it, her brow furrowing as she read.

"I hope it's not bad news," said Sidney.

"Mr Stringer has been called to London. He won't be back until the weekend," she looked up at him. "Oh, this is unfortunate. I was enjoying his company."

Sidney couldn't help but feel partly elated at the news. No Mr Stringer, no proposals of marriage. "Well, perhaps I might take his place as guide for you and your siblings. I might not be as affable, but I'm every bit as knowledgeable as Mr Stringer," he bowed.

"Oh, yes of course. Well…I'll just go to my rooms and answer this. I'll return momentarily," she bowed her head and left.

Sidney watched her go. She was very unlike Charlotte, he thought. She was not as handsome, and her smile did not reach her eyes. There was something wanting in her understanding, too. But she was pleasant, and would surely delight some gentleman. He sat down and looked out into the street.

He was terribly torn over his behavior. He longed to be with Charlotte, but knew that he was behaving in a selfish manner. It could not be. He could not touch her hand. Hold her arm to guide her. He could not kiss her mouth.

But her society was just as agreeable as any kiss, and so he must relish that, and tame his heart.

He saw her and John walking toward the hotel and felt his palms pearl sweat. He rubbed them on his thighs and cleared his throat.

John entered first and saw Sidney. He walked over, Charlotte behind him. "Hello, Mr Parker," he smiled.

Sidney stood. "Mr Heywood, Miss Heywood," and he gestured for them to sit, and he along with them. "Your sister was just here, but she went to write to Mr Stringer, who has recently been called to London on work, and won't be back until the weekend."

"The weekend?" said Charlotte, sitting down and taking off her bonnet. "That is unfortunate."

"Yes, well…I have offered my services as tour guide," he smiled.

"What a lucky conclusion," she returned.

He laughed. "Should I take by your tone that you suggesting I am ill suited for such an enterprise?"

"Not at all. I cannot imagine Mr Sidney Parker to be ill suited for much of anything," she returned with a smile.

"Now I know you are making fun," and he nodded to the server.

They were taken into the dining area and sat at a corner table. Allison came not long after, and they all put in orders and began to sip the wine.

Charlotte was seated in between Sidney and her brother. It was uncomfortable, but not terribly so. The three of them were speaking animatedly, and she had not much to offer. She wasn't even positive of the topic.

After a fashion, and two glasses of wine, she sat back.

"Miss Heywood," Sidney said softly.

"Yes?" she turned to look at him.

"You're very quiet."

Allison and John continued to speak about…something. She wasn't sure. "Am I?"

"Yes. Are you all right?" his voice was heavy with concern.

"Not really," she looked at him…

And his eyes were penetrating, and his lips slightly parted.

"Can I help?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

He nodded, and looked away. "Perhaps I might walk you upstairs. Some rest might be the thing…and we are to visit with Georgiana tomorrow. Her society is so animated that ample rest is well advised," and then he looked at her and smiled.

Charlotte was staring at him. "I can manage, Mr Parker. But thank you."

He nodded. "Of course."

"However, I should go. I am rather tired," she stood. "You might walk me to the stairs, if you like," she nodded to Sidney. "So that we can discuss tomorrow's plans."

"It would be a pleasure," and he stood. "I'll return momentarily," he said to John and Allison.

They left the hall and went to the lobby where the staircase was, directly in the middle of the room. "What time would be suitable?" Charlotte asked.

"Perhaps eleven? Before luncheon?" his hands were folded behind his back.

She nodded. "And do you like my brother and sister, Mr Parker?" she stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"Very much. Especially John. He's delightful. And very like you, if I may say so."

"Thank you," she smiled widely. "Though I'd never admit it outright to my family, he is my favorite sibling. You liking him speaks well of your judgment."

"A small consolation," he said softly, looking at her intently.

She cleared her throat. "Will you meet me here at eleven?"

"Yes. Good night, Miss Heywood."

"Good night, Mr Parker," she turned and went upstairs.

* * *

Sidney woke early and readied himself. He felt badly for not calling on Georgiana the previous day, but he would spend time with her today. And she likely did not want to see him, anyway.

He had left John and Allison Heywood about three quarters of an hour after Charlotte retired, and had enjoyed himself. John was especially engaging, and altogether a pleasant man. He was knowledgeable without being superior. He was humorous without being overzealous, and he was kind in a very honest way.

He thought that had circumstances been different, he and John Heywood would have been very good friends.

And he honestly hoped that he'd be there at Mrs Griffith's.

Sidney walked out into the crisp morning air thinking about Charlotte, and how ill at ease she'd seemed. How of course she was ill at ease, and how he had set her to be so. She must love him, for she was not a silly lady; she would not behave unless she was stricken with intense feeling.

And this conclusion was dichotomous to him, for he was equal parts elated and horrified. That he should find love twice in his lifetime, and neither one was meant to be was a tragedy.

He loved her so, and his desire to be near her was the selfish part of him insisting that he be. For he knew he would ultimately have to let her go, and that knowledge sickened him. To pretend for these twelve remaining days was like playacting, and juvenile.

But there it was. He was allowing himself this time in order to face the decades long sentence he had set for himself. It would be a penance of sorts, for the shameless flirtation and hurt he was inflicting on the object of his desire, Charlotte Heywood.

He walked on, and then headed back to Trafalgar House. It was now nine, and he had time to spare.

"Sidney!" exclaimed Mary Parker. "How are you this morning?"

He kissed her cheek. "Very well, thank you, Mary," he sat down next to her and spooned out some breakfast.

"You do seem well…much better than I've seen in some time," she smiled. "What's happening to alleviate your mind?"

He looked at her and flashed a quick smile. "Only Sanditon's sea air. London was stifling, and I would go mad being there much longer."

"How long is your stay?"

"Down to twelve days now, Mary," he took a bite.

"And what will you do today?"

"I'm visiting with Georgiana."

Mary nodded. "You know, we should have a party for you, Sidney. It's August…come September people will be much more tethered to London."

"I'm not apt to enjoy parties, Mary."

"No, but a small summer gathering…under the stars. I know that Charlotte and her brother and sister are here. We can have them, and Arthur…Georgiana? Perhaps Lord and Lady Babbington."

"Oh, I don't know," he said. It wasn't an altogether attractive notion. He was not in the habit of enjoying large social gatherings when he _wasn't _engaged.

"Well, give it some thought. When do the Heywood's return to Willingden?"

"Mm…the first week of September, I think."

"Well. Let's decide by Monday, shall we?"

He nodded. "I should go. I'm taking Miss Heywood to visit with Georgiana," and he stood.

"Good day, Sidney."

And he left. He made a quick pace to the hotel, and was fully thirty minutes early arriving. But it was no matter, for Charlotte was in the lobby already, sipping tea. He went up to her. "Miss Heywood," he nodded.

"Good morning, Mr Parker. Won't you sit?"

He did. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I am, thank you."

"Good. Excellent. Well, are either of your siblings joining us?"

"John is. I haven't heard that Allison is wanting to."

At that, John appeared. "Morning," he smiled to them both. "I am quite excited to make Miss Lambe's acquaintance. I long to hear stories of Antigua."

"Well, perhaps you might draw her out, Mr Heywood. She is loathe to speak of it," Sidney stood. "Ready, Miss Heywood?"

She nodded, stood, and the trio walked out into the blazing August sun.


	6. Chapter 6

Georgiana Lambe was sitting at the window in her separate parlor. Mrs Griffiths was no where to be found since quite early, and Georgiana could not claim to be upset by this. She was, in fact, enjoying her solitude very much.

The time away from Sidney Parker had allowed her to mature somewhat, for she found herself behaving in a much more refined manner than when he had been her constant overseer. Mrs Griffiths' intense scrutiny had ebbed as well, and given the space to grow, Georgiana flourished. She had now suffered a broken heart as well, and the effect that had on her cannot be understated.

So when she happened to see Sidney Parker walking with Charlotte Heywood, and some other man she did not know, Georgiana was less than pleased. It still hurt somewhat that Charlotte had neglected to see her before she left Sanditon.

"Mr Parker, Miss Heywood, and Mr Heywood, Ms Lambe," announced the servant.

"Send them in, thank you," said Georgiana.

The three walked in…Charlotte bursting with smiles for her friend…and Georgiana could not stay angry, at least not for that particular slight. She went to her and kissed her cheek. "I am so happy to see you again!" she exclaimed. "I never had the chance to see you before you left…"

"I know and I am so sorry. I was…unable," she said with a downward glance. "This is my brother John. John, this is Miss Georgiana Lambe."

"It is my pleasure, Miss Lambe," John bowed.

She curtseyed, then looked at Sidney. "Mr Parker. Always good to see you."

"Well, I am glad to hear it. How have you been keeping?"

"Well enough. And how are you wedding preparations coming? I did not expect to see you until after the wedding."

"Were you not planning on attending?" he folded his hands behind his back.

"I only attend weddings which are genuine," she looked at Charlotte. "Might we speak in the room just there for a moment?"

"Of course," said Charlotte, and with a look at John and a glance at Sidney, she followed.

Georgiana closed the door behind them. "What did I tell you?" she hissed. "I told you he wasn't to be trusted! I told you…and he's engaged to that vile, odious woman _and_ now he's here with you! What is he playing at? What are you thinking?"

"Oh, Georgiana! Please…don't make this worse than it is!" Charlotte's eyes welled. "I do not think that anything that he's done he's done out of malice. He's helping his brother Tom, and I …"

"Stop it," Georgiana said, crossing her arms. "I warned you, and look at you now. Have you slept at all?"

The tears began to fall. Charlotte had not wept in some time…but she felt the words acutely. Georgiana _had_ warned her, but this wasn't really what she was being warned about. "Please…you did warn me, but he was acting as a brother should. Tom needed money, and this is how he's going to get it…please don't be cross…" and it occurred to her that this is not why Georgiana should be angry. That it really was none of her business. "Can we not start over?" she smiled.

"I think I need some time, and I have no desire to see Sidney Parker," she turned away from her.

"Are you upset that I left without a word? Because I am sorry for it."

"I know so few here and like even less, Miss Heywood. Please…I'd like some time."

She nodded. "I'll go then."

"Can you ask Mr Parker to leave as well?"

Charlotte nodded, then left the room. "She doesn't want to see us, Mr Parker."

"I beg your pardon?"

"She wants some time. She doesn't want to see you or I."

Sidney stared at her a moment. She had been crying. "Well…" he thought about going over and banging on the door, but then though the better of it. "Mr Heywood, might you stay until Georgiana emerges to ensure that she is well?"

"Of course. How long should I wait?"

"Do not trouble yourself. A quarter an hour will suffice, and if she does not come out, just alert the housekeeper that you've left," he looked at Charlotte. "Shall we leave, then?"

She nodded, then looked at John. "I'll see you at the hotel soon."

Charlotte felt rather ill as she walked out of Mrs Griffiths'. Sidney had not spoken to her, and she was glad of it. He had no idea why Georgiana would behave thusly, and she did not know how to tell him why she had.

"My ward is displeased with me, as is her custom," he observed after a fashion.

"With both of us, it would seem," she wiped her cheek.

"I had no idea she was upset with you, Miss Heywood. I am sorry for her remarkable behavior."

"Oh, it's all right. I suppose I suspected that she might be, but she was much more affected than I should have thought," she held herself as they walked, neither in any particular direction.

"Are you upset with me as well?" he asked softly.

"Am I …?" she slowed and looked at him.

He smiled awkwardly. He should not have asked that. "Apologies, Miss Heywood. I spoke out of turn."

"I am not upset with you, Mr Parker."

He nodded and swallowed. "It's more than I deserve."

"Yes it is. But there you have it."

He chuckled very slightly. "Mary mentioned today a gathering she is wanting to plan before I must return to London. Would you be interested in such a thing?"

"I …"

"Not a ball, mind. A party of sorts."

She smiled, then shrugged. "I think that would be lovely."

"Good. Then I'll tell her you will attend, and to go ahead with the plan."

"Is my presence dependent on it occurring?"

"It is," he replied simply.

This stopped her. What was he doing with her heart? "Mr Parker, forgive me, but what are you doing in Sanditon? Shouldn't you be with Ms Campion planning your wedding, and not attending parties with me?"

Sidney stopped. They were at the top of the hill by Trafalgar House, the trees giving shade to the spot. "I am here, Miss Heywood, because I could not bear to be in London any longer. It was killing me."

She looked very intently at him. "That is unfortunate indeed, for don't you mean to set up residence there?"

"Yes. That is the plan, I believe."

She shook her head. "Mr Parker. I must tell you that it is equal parts horrifying and wonderful to see you and spend time in your company."

He swallowed. "I know. I know, Miss Heywood," he took a step nearer her. "I owe you yet another apology…"

She stepped back. "Please. Listen to me…" she looked away at the house and then back to him. "You said that you don't love her," she swallowed.

He didn't answer.

"Does that mean…" she closed her eyes. "Forgive me, but I must hear this. Does that mean that you love me…that you love me even still?" she looked at him now. She needed this. If she was to suffer through this stay of his, she needed to know that he wasn't merely toying with her. And even if it could never be, she did not want to spend the rest of her life guessing his heart.

"Charlotte…" he said softly, then took her hand.

And her breath ceased its movement.

"…I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. And I am so sorry that this has happened to us."

A single tear slid down her cheek. She squeezed his hand and let it go. She nodded, smiled, and began walking toward the house.

"Charlotte?" said Sidney, walking after her. "Where does this leave us?"

"The same place, Sidney," she glanced over at him. "But now, I must confess I feel better. I thought that I'd feel wretched after your admission, but it's quite the opposite. It is exactly what I needed."

"Well, I'm happy you're better," he cleared his throat as they descended the hill. "But, you'll forgive me yet again," he took her elbow. "Might I assume that my feelings are reciprocal?"

She smiled looking up at him. "You may," and she walked again.

And for the first time since the midsummer ball, just before the fire, he felt light.

* * *

"I found Miss Lambe to be an excellent young lady," John was sipping wine by the hearth in the lobby with his sisters.

"Georgiana is a wonderful person," said Charlotte.

"I would like to make her acquaintance," said Allison.

"She has the most fascinating and tragic stories to tell. I should love to see Antigua," John smiled.

"But John," began Charlotte. "The sugar trade is completely awful. Georgiana's mother was a slave…and slavery is the most …"

"You misheard me, Charlotte. I did not mention sugar. I said Antigua."

"But…"

"Not to worry, I mean only to travel. I think it must be a wonderful place to see."

Allison furrowed her brow. "Must it? When such horrors take place there?"

"Well, Miss Lambe hales from it. There ought to be things worth knowing about it."

"You're quite struck with her, aren't you John?" Charlotte smiled.

"I am. She's quite engaging. And she has a mind of her own which is particularly refreshing," he smiled.

"That is the very thing that vexes Mr Sidney Parker about her," laughed Charlotte.

"How are things with Mr Parker, Charlotte?" asked Allison. "You seem in better spirits than yesterday."

"Things are better, thank you. We have admitted our hearts and understand that nothing can be done about it," she sighed. "But I'm happy to know and not guess. It was partly the guessing which had me in knots."

"But he said he was going to propose…" interjected John.

"Yes. And he had the cover of another engagement. He had never told me that he loved me…and I suppose I just _needed_ to hear it, as silly as that may sound."

"Not silly. Frankness is an undervalued trait," said Allison.

Charlotte smiled at her sister. "Quite."

"Well. What shall we do tomorrow?" asked John. "I believe that we have a couple of days until Mr Stringer returns and demands Charlotte's attention."

Said sister side eyed Allison. "Now John…Mr Stringer invited all of us. He would surely be very happy to see us when he returns."

"Of course…I beg your pardon. I only meant that we are here on his acquaintance with you."

She nodded. "I'm not certain. The shoreline, of course. Perhaps a walk among the cliffs?"

And at that, the concierge emerged. "A note, Mr Heywood, from a Mrs Mary Parker," he bowed and left.

"Oh, well! Perhaps we needn't strain to think of things to do after all," smiled Allison.

John opened the letter. "She is inviting us for a lunch tomorrow and then an excursion to the shore. She states we are most welcome for supper as well," he smiled. "Well then. What do my sisters think?"

Charlotte looked at Allison. "It sounds very fine."

"Well then. Trafalgar House it is," said Charlotte, and she sipped her wine.

* * *

Sidney was looking out of the window in the parlor. He was waiting anxiously for the Heywood's to arrive.

They were a half an hour late, and he was beginning to think they wouldn't come. His and Charlotte's parting was awkward the day previous after their mutual confessions, and he felt ill at ease all night because of it.

He honestly longed to go to her in the middle of the night and speak about it…but then his mind wandered to her mouth, and he thought the better of it.

As he considered it, he replayed it in his mind:

They had only just admitted their feelings, and he had not spoken again as they entered Trafalgar House. He longed to hold her hand, but knew that would not be well received, so he kept his hand at his side. "Charlotte," he said as they went to the parlor where tea was still sitting.

"Mr Parker, I think you should remember yourself."

He swallowed. "I am sorry," he said, and flustered, "Can I get you some tea? You take it white, no sugar, is that correct?"

"Very good memory," she smiled. "Despite your slip just now."

"I remember all things related to you, Miss Heywood," and he handed her a cup and sat next to her. He watched her intently for a moment and the cleared his throat. "I find this maddening."

"What is maddening?"

"That we cannot be…"

"Mr Parker," she began. "Please. This has been settled. No use in dwelling on it. You're here to enjoy Sanditon. Enjoy it, then."

"Always so sensible," he smiled, then got himself some tea. "How does your sister like the sea? I've managed to speak with John about it."

"Allison is not terribly difficult to figure. She says what she means and means what she says. She lacks…" she almost said 'depth,' but that would be terribly unkind. "She lacks nuance."

He chuckled a moment. "Unlike yourself, Miss Heywood. You are all subtlety."

"Is that a joke?" she laughed.

"No indeed. Though you are also candid. A dichotomy if ever there was one."

They stayed this way for a while, and when it was time for her to leave, he followed her to the door. "I hope to see you tomorrow."

"Yes. That would be welcome."

Sidney looked at her with a steady stare. He swallowed, and his gaze found her mouth. "Then perhaps tomorrow…" and he leaned an inch toward her.

"Yes," and she backed away. "Thank you, Mr Parker," and she left in a bit of a hurry.

If he was being completely honest, he would have kissed her had she let him.

But now he was thinking he had made a mistake and had taken things too far. He should not have presumed such physical closeness. He was engaged to another woman, for god's sake.

But now Eliza seemed almost specter like…not wholly of his life. She haunted him, but was never there, nor had she been much since they had arrived in London. Charlotte Heywood was real. She was there. She listened to him and laughed with him. She was there, body and soul, and he longed to touch her, to feel her real presence. To be with only her and tell everyone who would listen of his heart.

He sighed.

Still, no sign of them. "Mary!" he called.

Mary Parker emerged. "What is it, Sidney?"

"What time were the Heywood's to arrive?"

She looked crookedly at him. They aren't due here for another twenty minutes," she smiled. "Eager, are we?"

"I thought…"

"John wrote and said that they were delayed. Allison wanted to shop for…something, I cannot recall what. And they were waiting for her."

"Ah. Yes. Very good," he seemed uncomfortable. "Well, perhaps I'll fill my time outside then," and he grabbed his hat and walked out the door.

"Poor lad," said Mary, and she left the room to find her children.


	7. Chapter 7

Sidney walked the park around Trafalgar House for some time. He worried over his behavior with Miss Heywood and if it had been terribly untoward. He knew himself to be a man of some compulsion, so he had reason to think that he had.

But she loved him! And that fact was sustaining him.

He admired her even more when she pressed him about his feelings, though it did also give him pause. That she doubted that he did make him wonder; but then he dismissed it, for he was, in fact, engaged to another. Of course she would doubt him.

His hands were folded behind his back as he took long strides in the grass.

"Mr Parker!" he looked up to see John Heywood walking toward him.

Sidney smiled and went to him. "Hello, Mr Heywood. I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

"Allison was in a shop purchasing a new gown. She is one to be detained in such matters, and Charlotte and I have learned not to bother getting in between her and her fancies."

"Miss Allison Heywood is concerned with dresses and such? Miss Charlotte does not seem to be so inclined," Sidney observed.

"Well, Allison likes pretty things. I don't know if she is absorbed in material things, but if something strikes her as lovely, which happens every so often, she is apt to want it and make it her mission to have it. It can be a book, some flowers, a gown…anything with aesthetic beauty," John opened the door for Sidney. "Charlotte appreciates those things, but tends toward the cerebral loveliness of books and such. Allison's definition is more broad."

Sidney smiled and nodded. "Well. Nothing wrong with appreciating beauty," he walked into the parlor at that moment and caught Charlotte's eye. "Nothing at all," he said more to himself. "Good afternoon, Miss Heywood," he went to Charlotte and bowed. Then turned to Allison, "Miss Allison, how are you?"

"I'm well, thank you Mr Parker," she smiled.

He nodded. "And have you heard from our Mr Stringer?" he sat down.

"I have, yes. A letter came yesterday."

"And how is he in London?"

"He apologized for not being here, and promised his return Sunday afternoon."

Sidney glanced at Charlotte for a reaction. "I am happy he is so engaged with his work," she said. "He is a talented young man."

"Indeed he is, Charlotte," exclaimed Mary Parker. "We are fortunate to have him in Sandition. He told me recently he is intending on staying here after his apprenticeship."

"That is lucky," said John. "He can aid in the rebuilding even more."

"My thoughts exactly, Mr Heywood," replied Mary. "I understand you visited with Miss Lambe yesterday. How did you find her?"

"Miss Lambe is everything engaging," said John. "We spoke for over an hour, and I must admit I did not wish to leave. However, she seemed tired, and I thought it would be selfish of me to stay."

Charlotte looked at John. She wondered at his fascination with Georgiana. He never spoke with ladies much…though they sought his society due mainly to his looks, he was always dismissive. So much so that she began to wonder at his attraction to the opposite sex. But it had been her observation over the past year or so that John was merely exhausted by the niceties and the disingenuous nature of flirtation. He did not find joy in the playfulness of love. He wanted a companion, someone with whom he could share adventures and talk about them. Because he was not the firstborn son, he had some freedom there…

But because he was the second son, not too much.

The Heywood's were not, as was stated, destitute. In fact, had they had a reasonable amount of children, say five or six, they would have been quite comfortable. As it was, they were a brood.

Mr Heywood's land was extensive enough. The farm did well. He had tenants. He was a gentleman.

And he had five sons, so there was that.

But also six daughters, so that made it complicated.

But as she watched John talk about Georgiana, she thought that he was more animated than he had been in some time.

"Well, perhaps we could invite her for dinner here tomorrow, Sidney," said Mary, looking at him. "What do you think?"

"It's your house, Mary," said Sidney.

"It's settled, then," proclaimed Mary Parker.

* * *

Following luncheon they journeyed out to the shoreline. The clouds were gathering somewhat beyond the horizon, and Allison remarked how lucky it was to have escaped the rain. The air was heavy with moisture, and the humidity was taking its toll. August heat was never much of a consideration for sea dwellers because of the almost constant air movement, except when it was.

Charlotte fell back to walk with Sidney following a long time with Mr and Mrs Parker. "Looks as though it will rain later," she observed.

"So it does," he said, looking over at her and delighted at her presence.

"What do you think of John's appreciation of Georgiana?"

"What do you mean?"

"It seems as though my brother likes her very much."

Sidney cleared his throat. Georgiana was still full young…nineteen…"I'm happy that John likes her."

"Do you object?" Charlotte looked up at him.

"Well, they've only spent an hour in each other's company, Miss Heywood. I daresay there's nothing yet to object to."

"I believe you know what I'm suggesting," she said softly.

"Well," he slowed his pace. "Georgiana is nineteen."

"As is John."

"Legally, she has another year before anything regarding my interference in a match can be ignored."

Charlotte stopped. "Would you object? John is my most beloved sibling, Mr Parker. And if you value my opinion at all, you would believe me when I tell you that he is everything good and honorable."

"Of course I believe you, Ms Heywood. That is not at issue."

"What is, then?"

He sighed. What the issue was, was that Sidney was obliged to take a long look at any suitor, no matter who they were. Georgiana's fortune made her a target, as was evidenced by the unfortunate events mere months ago. Her race also made her a target, but for much more nefarious reasons. "Please, come with me, Miss Heywood…" he took her elbow. He led her back toward Trafalgar House, away from the others.

"What is it, Mr Parker?" she sounded exasperated.

"Believe me, Miss Heywood, I do not want to have this conversation. But it appears it must be done," he gestured for her to sit on a bench under a tree.

She sat and looked up at him, expecting him to sit as well. When he didn't, she folded her hands in her lap.

Sidney swallowed. "As you are well aware, Georgiana's fortune makes her prey for those in want of it…which, regrettably, is a large segment of the population," he added softly.

"If you are suggesting that John is a fortune hunter…he doesn't even know of the vastness of…" she nearly spat the words.

"I'm not," he interrupted. "I'm merely explaining why I am on my guard where she is concerned," he nodded. "And what John will need to contend with, should he pursue her," he looked away. "Additionally, there is the matter of Georgiana's race. I cannot claim to understand what she feels, being here in England where scarcely anyone looks like her and where her appearance attracts mostly derision, but I know that she is exceedingly uncomfortable," he looked again at Charlotte. "Anyone who loves her will need to contend with this fact. It has been my belief that she would return to Antigua when she turns twenty, and I was not going to stand in her way."

Charlotte looked at him, her mouth slightly open. That was a lot to consider. "I see," was all she said.

He smiled very slightly. "So, Miss Heywood, it is not that I object to your brother. But their acquaintance is so very new, and he would need to truly think about what he is doing," now he sat next to her. "Yet this might be for naught. They have spent an hour in one another's company. Surely they are not in love."

"No. I don't believe that they are. But John's regard is not easily won, and he is not ordinarily touched by the attention of young ladies. His dotage is unusual."

"No? But he is quite a handsome young man. He is amicable and warm…he is not destitute…"

Charlotte smiled. "He is all of those things and more. But John is put off by the frivolity of the business of love. He desires a companion…something strong and meaningful."

"I can well believe it. I have found him to be quite deliberate in his manner and speech."

"Yes. Quite…" and she found herself staring at him. Charlotte did not dwell on physical appearance, but Sidney Parker was among the most handsome men she had occasion to meet. She thought that the moment she had beheld him on that walk many months ago now, with Mrs Parker.  
She must have looked too long, for he looked away, and she felt the heat rise on her neck.

"Shall we continue on with the others, or turn back to the house?"

She swallowed, and dropped her gaze. "I …" she didn't know what she wanted to do just then, except be with Sidney. "Perhaps we might sit here and wait for them."

"As you like," he said.

She was inclined to ask if he'd heard from Ms Campion, but was loathe to do it. She wasn't certain she wanted to know, anyway. "Did you speak with Mrs Parker about the party?"

"I did. She is very much looking forward to it."

"And when is she planning on holding it?"

"Next Saturday evening. The night before I return to London," he added softly.

Charlotte nodded. "Well, that is convenient, I suppose."

He swallowed. "What do you think of a picnic, Miss Heywood?"

"Beg your pardon? What do I think of a picnic?" she smiled.

"Yes. Tomorrow…I was thinking that tomorrow we might pack a lunch and head to the shore. Perhaps have a game of cricket…nothing terribly organized, but with my brother, your brother, Miss Allison…" he looked at her. "You. I recall you being a formidable player."

"Thank you. That would be lovely."

"Excellent," he smiled.

At that, Charlotte felt a drop of rain hit her bonnet. She looked up to see heavy, grey clouds looming. "It's beginning to rain, Mr Parker," she said, and stood.

"Come," he took her hand…

And they began their descent to Trafalgar House, the clouds opening and the water soaking them…

Charlotte laughed as they ran, she stumbled once, but Sidney kept her from falling. He joined in her laughter…

And he thought that he never laughed in such a way with Eliza…that indeed, Charlotte was one of the only people who could inspire such gaiety in him.

They reached the house quite soaked through. "Oh, my clothes!" she laughed.

He caught his breath. "Mary surely has something that will suit," he replied, swallowing and smiling at her.

Charlotte nodded. "I'm certain you're right."

And then he noticed he was still holding her hand. He dropped it, then looked at her. He swallowed. "Allow me," and he stepped toward her…then untied her bonnet. He took it off, and hung it on a hook to dry.

"Thank you," she said softly.

…and he thought that he would love nothing more than to help her further, but not only was that inappropriate, it was also indecent and unbecoming of a gentleman. "Not at all," he smiled. He stepped back and took off his overcoat.

Charlotte watched as he did this, and believed she was becoming overwrought…her senses were heightened, and her face flushed scarlet. She tore her eyes away and left him there to find Mrs Parker.

* * *

"When Mr Stringer returns, we will need to speak with him about his ideas for rebuilding. As it happens, we were to tear down a few structures because remodeling them would be too expensive. And now that they are all but destroyed, we might be able to use them after all," Tom was animated in his conversation. They were all seated for dinner.

But Sidney felt a pang as soon as James Stringer was mentioned. "When does the man return?" he asked.

"Sunday," supplied Allison.

He nodded. "Well, I hope he can draw up plans, Tom. It would be fortunate to have ideas for the rebuilding."

"Yes exactly. What's more, perhaps the cost would be effected if we aren't tearing things down."

"Happy thought," Sidney smiled.

Charlotte swallowed. Her head hurt with the mention of the cost of the rebuild. She looked at her plate, and was suddenly not hungry any longer. She took a long draught of her wine and folded her hands.

John noticed and attempted to gain her eye.

When she did look at him, he offered a questioning look.

How could she convey that the mention of the rebuilding reminded her of Sidney's engagement? And now…now it was becoming increasingly difficult to admit this fact. The more time she spent in his company, the more she loved him. It was torturous.

But neither could she fathom being apart from him this last week, when he was to be off again to London. It will likely be the final days of their acquaintance.

It broke her heart all over again.

She took a napkin and wiped her mouth. "Excuse me," she said, and stood.

Sidney watched her, and began to rise, but John caught his gaze and clandestinely shook his head. He followed Charlotte out.

"Charlotte!" he called as she went out the side entrance. There was a covered porch area she had often sat in during the spring.

She stopped. "John," she smiled.

"You're unwell."

"I'm not. Just…" she cleared her throat. "Just a bit sad, that's all."

"About Sidney?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "I'm being silly. I know this can never be…but it's becoming increasingly difficult…"

"What is?"

"Being around him. I fear that I'm falling deeper…" she laughed. "Fancy all of this, John. I'm a simpering fool," she sat on a bench.

"You're not a fool, Charlotte. Not in the slightest," he sat next to her.

"I feel like a fool."

"Your circumstances are such that anyone would behave as you are. No one can blame you."

"I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Have the two of you done anything…improper?"

She looked at him. "John! What do you think of me?"

"Apologies. But love makes fools of us all."

Charlotte smiled. She watched the rain fall and soak the tableau. "Mr Sidney Parker wants to have a picnic and a cricket tomorrow. What are your thoughts?"

"Well, I suppose my thoughts are, I hope the rain stops."

She laughed. "Then you are agreeable?"

John looked at her. "I am. And especially so since you are."

She swallowed. "What am I going to do, John?"

"You are going to live your life for as long as it will allow it with Sidney Parker. You will put all thoughts of his engagement from your mind while you are able. And," he took her hand. "You will play and win at cricket tomorrow, just as you always have."

Charlotte squeezed his hand.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for reading! I am thinking this will be about 12 chapters, so we are more than half way through! I hope you are enjoying this story as much as I am!_


	8. Chapter 8

After the leisurely picnic, the cricket was most welcome. It was gentlemen versus ladies, and the gentlemen barely won.

Charlotte was sitting on the blanket after the match watching the waves lap slowly on the shoreline.

"Mr Stringer is to return today," Sidney sat next to her.

"Yes I know," she smiled, looking at him.

He shifted a bit. "What are your feelings with regard to him?"

"My feelings?" she furrowed her brow as she looked at him.

"Yes…are you…enamored of him?"

"I like him very much," she paused. "To what do these questions tend?"

"I'm attempting to determine if you are at all inclined to accept a proposal of marriage should he offer one."

"I beg your pardon?" she was aghast.

"I believe he means to propose to you, Miss Heywood."

She stared at him. "And how is that your business?"

"How is it my…?" his face hardened and his voice fell. "Are you serious?"

"Completely. We have no understanding. At least, not in the formal sense…and you yourself are engaged, Mr Parker, lest you forget," she stood. "If I want to enter into an agreement with Mr Stringer, then that is my business and his."

And now he stood. "I believe it is my business to know. Perhaps not to offer my opinion on the matter, but to know, yes."

"And why is that?"

"Because I love you," he hissed. "And because of that, I think I have a right to know if you intend on marrying someone. I told you as soon as I could," he added.

"I didn't say a word…"

"No. Nor would I if you did accept him," he interrupted. "But you could at least tell me if that is your intention."

She swallowed. She steadied herself. "I mean only to marry where I feel the deepest of affection."

He nodded.

"But should I write to you and alert you if this occurs many years from now? Are you to be kept abreast of all matters of my heart, always, Mr Parker?" her eyes narrowed.

He chuckled, but was a bit put out. "Miss Heywood, I have loved two women in my life thus far. It's a curious circumstance that I should be marrying the first when I love her no longer. If you were to fall in love again, I should very much like to know, even if it is fifty years from now."

Her mouth was slightly agape. She nodded, then looked around. No one was about, they had all left during their heated exchange. She smiled, feeling her heart beat against her ribcage. "Mr Stringer is a wonderful man, Mr Parker. But I do not love him."

He exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to upset you."

"It's an extraordinary situation we find ourselves in, Mr Parker. And unintended responses are to be expected, I think," she picked up the blanket from the sand and shook it out.

"You're correct as always," he replied.

"No. Not always," she looked at him. "But a great deal of the time," she smiled.

He nodded, chuckling a bit. "Well, Miss Heywood. It appears we have driven our friends away," he looked around.

"Georgiana is to come for dinner, is that not so?"

"It is."

"Let's meet her at the house, then."

They walked back to Trafalgar House talking intermittently. The Babington's were also invited, and were to join them. This was good news for Sidney, for he missed his friend's company since he was married.

When they arrived, the party was waiting for them, as well as Georgiana and the Babington's. The former was already deep in conversation with John.

Sidney went over to Lord Babington. "It's so good to see you," he shook his hand. "And Lady Babington, you are looking remarkably well."

"Thank you, Mr Parker," she nodded. "I was shocked to hear you back in the neighborhood. I would have expected you to remain in London until after the wedding."

He cleared his throat. "Ms Campion has everything well in hand. I was only getting in the way."

Babington looked at his friend. "Are you well, Sidney?"

"Yes of course. Nothing like the sea air to cleanse one's mind."

He nodded, then said to his wife, "I should like to smoke, dear. I'll see you at the table?"

"Odious habit," replied Esther, but she walked away to join the ladies at the card table.

"Come, Sidney. Let's out to the veranda." They walked out, and he handed him a cigar.  
"You cannot fool me, Sidney Parker."

"What do you mean?" he lit the cigar and puffed away.

"You are avoiding your fiancee."

He looked at Lord Babington. "Is it obvious?"

"To me, yes. I'm not certain if others would be able to tell."

Sidney dropped his gaze.

"What are you doing, anyway? I know that you and Miss Heywood…that you…"

He looked up at Babington. "I love her, you know. More than anything."

His brow furrowed. "Whom are we speaking of?"

"Charlotte Heywood."

"Then for god's sake! What are you doing?"

"Tom didn't insure the property. He overlooked it…so when the fire struck…" he swallowed.

"Oh god. Oh, Sidney. How perfectly awful," he touched his shoulder.

"And the creditors don't trust him. And Lady Denham is sick of the whole business," he puffed and then tossed the cigar. "And so I am here…I don't have eighty thousand pounds…neither do Arthur or Diana. Together, we might have half."

He dropped his hand. "Well, I could help. And what about your ward?"

"I cannot ask you or Georgiana to do such a thing."

Babington puffed. "So you are marrying Ms Campion for forty thousand pounds?"

"You make it sound indecent, Babington," he smiled.

"Well, isn't it? Especially when you are in love with someone else?"

Sidney swallowed. "I'm here to be near Charlotte before I am sentenced to a life with a woman I do not love, and barely trust."

"How is that working?"

"It has its drawbacks. But I'm hoping this time will sustain me. I'm wretched and a villain…I'm certain that it pains her, and it all but kills me. But I'm selfish…you know this. I needed to do this for myself."

Lord Babington shook his head. "And she loves you?"

He nodded.

"What a tragedy," he looked out into the falling night. "How did you know she would be here?"

"I happened upon Mr Stringer in London a month ago. He told me he was traveling to Willingden to see Charlotte, and that he meant to bring her with him to Sanditon, where he would then propose marriage to her."

"What?" he was shocked.

"You can imagine my horror. I thought that this would be the last and only chance of my being able to be near her without us irrevocably tethered to another."

"But…is she now engaged?"

"No. And I do not think she means to enter into an understanding with him," he said softly. "She is honorable and true."

"You are acting for your family, Sidney. She understands that."

"I feel like…" his eyes welled. "Well. I have sold myself, haven't I?"

Babington didn't respond.

"Come in, gentlemen. Supper is on," said Mary Parker, peeking out to them.

* * *

Charlotte watched as John spoke with Georgiana. And she noted that her friend was delighted to speak with him. They seemed completely engrossed, and this, admittedly, pleased her. She was very happy that, if nothing else, John was enjoying the company of a lady.

Supper was nearly over when the servant came in, "Mr Stringer, ma'am."

"Oh! Delightful!" exclaimed Mrs Parker.

And James Stringer came into the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt…but my guests have long been without their host, and I was feeling badly for it."

"Not at all, James, not at all," said Tom. "Come, sit here so that we may discuss your happenings in London," he glanced at Sidney, who was looking at James intently.

Charlotte did not do much but nod at Mr Stringer. She was seated across from Sidney, and next to Mary on one side, Allison on the other. He caught her eyes from across the table. They had not spoken once during the supper. She smiled discreetly.

…and he felt light once more.

There was a large part of himself that hated himself for what he was doing. He longed to stop in a way…but Charlotte was like a drug. The more she was around him, the more he wanted to be near here despite the fact that he knew it was not doing him any good.

He sat back, and thought briefly of Eliza…something he hadn't done in some time. He had received a letter from her a day or two ago, but hadn't bothered to open it. It had been his design, after all, to forget her for the fortnight.

Sidney was suddenly struck that he should read it, though he knew not why. He stood…"Excuse me. I'll be back in a few moments," he said to Mary, then left for his room.

He kept a fine room at Trafalgar House. It was situated in the back, though far enough away from the kitchens so that the smells did not infiltrate.

He went to his room to find the fire lit. He smiled. Though it was August, the sea brought with it, occasionally, a chilled wind.

He went to his desk and found the letter, then sat at the chair by the fire.

_Dearest Sidney,_

_I hope that this letter finds you well. I am missing you terribly, and I hope that you are enjoying your time in Sanditon. Our wedding plans are coming along nicely, though I am hesitant to do much else while you're away. There are some choices to be made which, I believe, require your input._

_But all of that can wait until I see you. _

_I was just discussing with Lady Bertram how fortunate that we found each other so soon after George's untimely death. It was the best of strokes that I came to that party! She agreed that it almost seemed as though fate was at play._

_Cakes and such can wait, Sidney dear. _

_Please hurry home._

_Yours,_

_Eliza._

There was something particular about the letter that gave him pause, though he could not put his finger on what.

Eliza was often effusive in her letters, often writing much more than was prudent, especially regarding matters of the heart. Even during their first go-round, Sidney thought her letters were a bit much.

But that wasn't it.

After reading it a second time, it was the mention of Lady Bertram which gave him pause. Sidney had no idea who this person was. And the fact that she mentioned her dead husband in a love letter was, too, rather odd.

He racked his brain to put a face to the name, but to no avail.

Perhaps Babington would know. Possibly Tom.

He sighed and stood, then put the letter in his breast pocket, and left the room. He walked downstairs and went out the side door, rather hoping that he'd find Lord Babington there with his cigars.

But he wasn't there.

Charlotte was.

He smiled at her. "Am I interrupting your reverie?"

"No not at all. Just getting some fresh air."

He nodded. "Well. Mr Stringer has returned."

"Yes I saw."

"He appeared to be well."

"Yes. I think so."

"Did he…did he speak with you?"

Charlotte smiled. "Only to wish me a good evening. He and Allison are walking back to the hotel."

"Ah," Sidney folded his hands behind him. "Are you ready, Miss Heywood? I could walk you, if you like."

She shrugged. "All right. Let me retrieve my wet clothes and I'll meet you in the front," she left him there.

After a few moments, Charlotte walked out. She held her bonnet, but that was all. "I'm to come tomorrow and retrieve my things," she explained as they began to walk. "It seems John is seeing Georgiana home."

"Oh…" Sidney stopped and looked behind him at the house. He thought that perhaps he should go back and check with John that that was all right, but then decided that it would be fine. He trusted John Heywood implicitly. "Well. That is very kind of him."

"Yes. That's John," she smiled broadly.

He looked up into the night sky. The clouds had left from the previous day, and the sky was clear with many thousands of stars peppering night's cloak as it descended on Sanditon. Sidney felt small. His troubles felt small. "Miss Heywood…"

"Hm?"

"I …received a letter the other day, and I was wondering if you'd read it for me."

"A letter? From who?"

"From Ms Eliza Campion."

Her face hardened. "I hardly think that's…"

"Please," and he took her hand and stopped walking. "You are one of my very closet friends. Please read it. I feel as though I am missing something," he took it out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Charlotte did not want to read the contents of this letter, but he told her she was one of his closest friends, and her heart melted. She took it and opened it.

And after a fashion, she looked up at Sidney. "It's odd. But in a strange way."

"You think so, too?" he took a step nearer.

"It's odd because she mentions her dead husband as her dead husband in a love letter."

"Yes! Just so. What's more, I have no idea who Lady Bertram is."

"You don't?" she looked at it again. It was certainly written as though she was an acquaintance they shared. "That is singular."

"How should I proceed?"

She shrugged. "Ask her who Lady Bertram is."


	9. Chapter 9

Charlotte woke the next morning with her mind filled with thoughts of the occurrences of the previous night. For Mr Stringer had returned, John was certainly taken with Georgiana, and Sidney had received a mysterious letter from Ms Campion.

She got dressed without waking Allison, then went downstairs. She thought she'd break her fast a bit later, for she wasn't hungry just yet.

Instead, she got her bonnet fixed and headed out into the dawn. It was a lovely morning…the air was crisp, and the humidity not yet blanketing the town.

She was walking towards the water when she heard her name. Charlotte turned to see Mr Stringer striding toward her.

She smiled at him. "Good morning, Mr Stringer."

"Good morning, Miss Heywood. How are you this fine morning?"

"I'm well. It's good to see you again. How was London?"

And they filled their conversation with the goings on in London. James Stringer was animated in his speech, praising much and finding fault with little. He avoided conversation about Sanditon, but Charlotte didn't mind. She was curious about the city and what he was doing there.

"So you're finding the situation to be an advantageous one?" she smiled as they walked along the shoreline.

"I am. Most definitely. I could not imagine a better way to prepare for what I hope to be a long and successful career," he nodded.

"I'm glad of it," and she was. He was, after all, a good man.

They walked along in this attitude for a bit before turning back to return to the hotel. They promised that since he would be in Sanditon all week, that they'd have more opportunity to see one another. He also expressed a desire to spend time with John and Allison.

They parted, and Charlotte walked into the lobby, and meant to go to the restaurant where breakfast would be served.

But she stopped, for Sidney Parker was sitting at one of the chairs in the lobby, looking at her. She smiled at him.

He nodded.

Charlotte walked over. "Good morning Mr Parker."

"Miss Heywood. How are you this morning?" he stood.

"Quite well, thank you."

"And how is Mr Stringer?"

She raised a brow. "He's well."

Sidney nodded, then gestured for her to sit, which she did. He cleared his throat, and admonished himself for jumping to conclusions about their walking together. He needed to trust her. He also needed to reconcile himself to the fact that she had every right to spend time with anyone she liked, even when that wasn't him. "I'm glad to hear it," he folded his hands. "What are your plans for the day, Miss Heywood?"

"I have no fixed plans."

"Would you be agreeable to walking the cliffs with me following your morning meal?"

She swallowed, recalling the last time they had walked those cliffs. "All right."

He smiled. "Shall I wait for you, then?"

Charlotte nodded then went to the restaurant. John and Allison both joined her while she was there. "We saw Mr Parker reading the paper in the lobby, Charlotte. Is he waiting for you?" asked Allison.

"He is, yes."

"And what are you two doing?"

She swallowed some milk. "Having a walk along the cliffs."

Allison glanced at John. "Be careful, Charlotte," he said. "I hate seeing you suffer."

"I'll be fine, John. We have an understanding," she looked at Allison. "Mr Stringer was inquiring after you this morning."

"Was he?" she blushed, and dropped her gaze.

"He was. Since it's Sunday, I imagine he'll be looking for us to dine with later," she nodded. "And we should probably alert the Parker's of this, lest they invite us."

"Well, you're better suited for that, Charlotte," said John. "Just tell him on your walk."

She glanced at them both. "Yes of course, you're right."

John narrowed his gaze. "You don't want to disappoint him…"

"Of course not. But I'm not fussed over it," she smiled, but there was hesitancy in her smile.

He sat back. "Charlotte, he will have to learn to live with disappointment, I'm afraid. He's marrying a woman he does not love."

"Thank you for reminding me, John," she stood. "As though I'd need reminding," and she walked off.

"Oh dear," said Allison. "That didn't end well."

"No," replied John. "But you know, I believe Charlotte needs a constant reminder that she is involving herself with and engaged man, and that this will surely end in further heartbreak. And honestly, I don't want to see that. Living with her in Willingden after her stay here was awful enough."

"That is rather selfish, John. Imagine what she went through," Allison took a bite of bread.

"Love can be selfish, Allison," he replied, standing. "It hurt me immensely to watch her fold within herself. I do not wish to live that way again," and he turned and left as well.

Allison looked out of the window.

* * *

The wind was gusting as they climbed the peak. Charlotte's hair was blowing freely…she had taken off her bonnet.

"It's a lovely day," said Sidney as they made their way up the rise.

"Indeed it is."

He smiled, watching the easy way in which she enjoyed life. Perhaps that was what he loved most about her.

"Have you given any further thought to the letter you received?"

"I have…" he cleared his throat. "Though I cannot account for it any more than I did last evening."

"Will you write and ask?"

"I've thought about it, but I rather think that I'll speak with Lord Babington. At least initially. He knows everyone in London," he folded his hands behind him.

"That sounds like a good strategy," she replied, then stopped to admire the vista at the top of the cliff. "It did sound as though Lady Bertram was a common acquaintance of you both, though."

He nodded, though she didn't see. Sidney was watching her…"Miss Heywood?"

"Hm?" she turned to find him looking at her.

He swallowed. He wanted to kiss her again. To make promises. He wanted to tell her he loved her. "Ah…" he smiled and looked out into the sea. "Do you and your siblings have plans for dinner this evening?"

She cleared her throat. "We do, actually. With Mr Stringer."

His gaze snapped to hers. "With Mr Stringer?"

"Yes. You forget. We are his guests, Mr Parker."

"How could I forget?" he snapped.

She took a step backward. "I beg your pardon, but you should check yourself."

He ran his hand through his hair. "Please forgive me. Of course, you need to be with him at least partly…"

"Mr Parker, might I ask…why are you here in Sadition? I believe I posed this question, or something like it not long ago, but never received a proper answer," she looked up at him.

He furrowed his brow. "Won't you sit?" he sat in the grass. It was a beautiful spot…the few clouds hung low, the sea beneath them with the sound of the waves lulling the scene into a serene hum.

She did, but felt uneasy.

"I should confess something to you, though it is not so heinous. At least, I don't believe it is," he picked up a blade of grass a twirled it. "It was about three weeks before I left for Sanditon that I happened upon James Stringer in London. We spoke, and he confessed that he meant to visit you…and…" he swallowed. "And propose marriage to you," at this, he looked at her.

Charlotte had gone pale. "Now it makes sense."

Sidney shrugged, smiling meekly. "I panicked. I needed to know if you meant to accept him, and I wanted to be near you before we were both irrevocably spoken for."

She looked out into the vast sea. "I will not accept any proposal from Mr Stringer," she said. "I do not love him."

"No," and then, "Are you angry?"

Charlotte tore her gaze away. "No. I'm not angry. But you should mind your temper," she reproved him.

"Noted," he smiled.

"And you should write to your fiancee. It's wrong to ignore her."

He shifted. "Yes. I realize that. But this is our time, Charlotte," he said softly. "I do not want her tarnishing that. She's already ruined…"

"She is helping Tom with rebuilding Sanditon, is she not?" Charlotte interrupted.

"Yes."

"Then she isn't ruining things. She's doing a service for your family," she said.

He sighed. "What am I going to do?" he threw the blade of grass.

"You're going to marry Ms Campion, Sidney," said Charlotte, taking his hand.

He looked at her, thinking that he'd only heard her call him "Sidney" a couple of times. He nodded, then leaned toward her slowly. He took his free hand and touched her cheek, dragging his thumb over her cheekbone. His breath was heavier.

As was hers.

"Charlotte," he breathed.

She swallowed, but then pulled away.

And he dropped her hand and his gaze. Maddening! And he stood. "Come. Let's get you back," and he held his hand out to pull her to standing.

She did, but she did not let go of his hand. "I'm sorry, Sidney."

"What for?"

"Everything."

He smiled…then stepped toward her, and leaned his forehead to hers. "As am I."

They then parted, hands to their sides. "Thank you for the walk," she said.

"My pleasure. Can I tell my brother and Georgiana that they might expect you all tomorrow at Trafalgar House for tea?"

"Yes. That would be lovely."

"Excellent. And you might want to check with Mary about the party."

"Why?"

He laughed. "It's becoming increasingly extravagant."

* * *

Allison and Mr Stringer were very much engaged in conversation the entire dinner. John was watching them with some interest.

After a fashion, he looked at Charlotte. "How was your walk today?" he said it low enough that only she heard.

"It was fine," she took a sip of wine.

"Just fine?"

She looked at him. "Yes. What else should it be?"

"Nothing at all," and then he glanced at Allison, then back to Charlotte.

She smiled. "We are to have tea tomorrow at Trafalgar House," she announced. "All of the Parker's, and Miss Lambe are to be there."

"Lovely," said Allison, tearing her attention away from Mr Stringer.

"You'll have to go without me," said James. "But I can of course meet for supper once more."

John nodded. "We can most assuredly make plans for that."

Allison agreed. "We certainly won't be at Trafalgar House all day."

Charlotte concurred, but couldn't help but be slightly disappointed at the plans. She wanted to spend the day in Sidney's company.

It had gotten very late in the evening before Charlotte confessed to her being tired. She could see that Allison was, too; but John was animated yet in his conversation with Mr Stringer. "It is long passed when I should have retired," said Charlotte, standing. "I'll need to say good night," she curtseyed to them both.

Allison followed her to their room. "Charlotte," when they closed the door behind them and she went over to her sister to aid her in undressing.

"Hm?"

"What do you think of Mr Stringer?"

"Haven't we spoken about this?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps. But I've been thinking…he is one of the finest men of my acquaintance."

"He is an excellent man."

"You like him, Charlotte?" her voice sounded eager.

"Of course I do," but her mind was filled with the conversation she had with Sidney earlier. She hoped that Mr Stringer didn't still have designs on her. "And I'm glad that you like him so much."

* * *

He was sitting at his desk preparing to answer Eliza's letter. He hardly knew where to begin…and that was in no small part to the conceit that he was going to forget her for the fortnight he was there.

She had ruined that for him.

He rolled his sleeves and dipped his quill.

_Dear Eliza,_

He stopped. What should he be writing? He hadn't a clue.

_I was quite surprised to receive your letter. I'm happy to hear that the wedding preparations are coming along, with or without my assistance. _

_Forgive me, but I do not recall ever having made Lady Bertram's acquaintance. Could you refresh my poor recollection?_

_Looking forward to seeing you when I return,_

_Sidney_

There. Only one falsehood. Not too bad.

He sealed it and readied it for the post in the morning.

Sidney Parker then readied himself for bed, while gazing at the August moon casting its low light across the rises that cradled Trafalgar House. And he smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

Lord Babington was most pleased to be in his friend's company again. He found Sidney Parker really to be most diverting. It wasn't that he was especially humorous, or capable of lively conversation…rather, he felt comfortable with him in a way that he didn't with others. He never felt that Sidney was judging him, using him, or anything else untoward.

So when Sidney asked him about Lady Bertram, he was confused, if only for a moment. Of course he knew who Lady Bertram was. Some of his more…ungentlemanly acquaintances had mentioned her in passing before. Why Sidney Parker would be asking about her was another thing altogether. "Lady Bertram?" he said, somewhat astonished.

"Yes. Do you know her?"

"Well, yes. That is…Bertram is not an uncommon name."

"I've never heard of her."

Lord Babington cleared his throat. "She's a midwife, Sidney."

"Indeed?"

He nodded. "I don't know much beyond that."

"So…there's nothing…egregious in her character?" he pressed.

"Not that I know of. I suppose it's not completely suspicious that your fiancee should be speaking with a midwife. Perhaps they move in similar circles…"

"Perhaps," and he poured the tea. The Heywood's would be arriving soon to join them for afternoon tea, and he was very much looking forward to it. He hadn't sent the letter yet, he was waiting to speak with Babington. But now, he thought he surely would send it out straight away. "It's of little consequence, really. I just thought it odd that she mention it in a letter with such a decided air of our common acquaintance."

"It is odd," agreed Babington. "But I wouldn't give it much thought."

"No," he smiled.

After a fashion, the Heywood's arrived. Charlotte was desirous of some space between herself and Sidney, if only for a short while. Yesterday's walk had had an effect on her, and she wanted a bit more time. She supposed she could have stayed behind, but she didn't want to arouse suspicion that anything was wrong.

Because nothing was.

She was just falling more and more in love with an engaged man.

She sat next to Lady Babington. "How is Lady Denham?" she asked.

Esther looked at her. "She's well enough. She's an old woman, Miss Heywood. And stubborn. So she is exactly how she wants to be."

"Oh," replied Charlotte, unsure how to respond. "Well. That's…"

"It's nothing. It's life."

She cleared her throat. "And do you mean to continue to live near her, or will you move to London to where Lord Babington mostly resides?"

"We are here for the present. Though I can imagine a time when London will be preferable."

What an insufferable response, thought Charlotte.

Esther seemed to take the hint. "How long are you in Sanditon, Miss Heywood?"

"Three more weeks or so," she answered.

"And how do you find things the second time round?"

"Well, since it is now the middle of the summer, the shore is much more pleasant and refreshing," Charlotte smiled.

"I can imagine," she glanced at Sidney Parker, who was clandestinely watching them. "Tell me, with whom are you here?"

"With my brother John and my sister Allison."

"Yes, but I mean to say…who invited you?"

"Oh! Mr James Stringer," and Charlotte helped herself to a cake.

Esther nodded. "How is Mr Stringer?"

"He's very well. Getting on nicely in London as an apprentice."

"How fortunate. He is a capable young man."

Charlotte nodded. She really had nothing further to add. "And are you enjoying married life, Lady Babington?"

She laughed. "What a tedious question, Miss Heywood. I thought better of you."

"I'm merely…"

"…bowing to convention and issuing niceties. I know. But is that really what you want to know? Or are you not interested in things I have to say?"

"No of course not," Charlotte was confused by this outburst. "I mean, of course I'm interested."

"Then ask me something of significance, that _you _want to know. That Miss Charlotte Heywood wishes to know."

"All right…" she thought a moment. "Do you know a Lady Bertram?"

She cocked her head. "Did you say _Lady Bertram_?"

"I did."

Esther stood. "Come with me, Miss Heywood."

Charlotte followed her out into the garden in the back of the house. It was quite warm, for the time was four in the afternoon, and the sun had been baking the day for some time. "What is it, my Lady?"

"Call me Esther. I detest formalities."

She was taken aback by this. "Thank you, Esther. What makes you steal away so?"

"I did not want prying ears," and she turned to Charlotte. "Lady Bertram is hardly a lady, Miss Heywood."

"Charlotte," she replied.

"Thank you. She is a midwife, but of the kind…" she lowered her voice. "She…eliminates…unwanted…" Esther widened her eyes.

Charlotte was confused. And then it became clear. "Oh. Oh my…"

"She fashioned herself that title. It wasn't bestowed."

"But…could there be a mistake? Surely there's more than one Lady Bertram in London."

"I suppose that's true. But when someone is inquiring after a Lady Bertram, that is who they mean."

"But…" it didn't make sense. Why would Eliza Campion be in need of a midwife? "Does she move in prominent circles?"

"She moves in every circle, Charlotte."

She folded her arms and furrowed her brow. Perhaps it was merely coincidence. Perhaps Eliza was friends with Lady Bertram in spite of her occupation. That there was no connection to what she did, and why Eliza knew her. That was certainly possible. "Thank you for telling me, Esther."

"Of course. Is there a reason why you need to know?"

"No. It's just a name I heard recently."

She nodded. "Shall we rejoin the group?"

"In a moment," Charlotte smiled.

"Then I'll see you in there," and Esther curtseyed and left Charlotte to her thoughts.

* * *

John was inseparable from Georgiana. He was her constant companion all night, and more than one person took notice. Charlotte was sitting talking with Allison, when Mary Parker sat next to them. "Mr Heywood certainly is enraptured, is he not?" she smiled.

"Charlotte and I were just agreeing that we've never seen him so happily partnered with a lady."

"Though it might be premature to assume anything just yet," reminded Charlotte.

"Or it may not be," Mary insisted. "What does Sidney say on the matter?"

Charlotte swallowed. "Well, we haven't really discussed it, Mrs Parker." This wasn't true, but Charlotte didn't much care for the idea of talking about this subject. Especially not when Sidney Parker himself was within earshot.

"It does make me happy to see him so happily engaged in conversation," observed Allison.

"And what of you, Miss Allison?" began Mrs Parker. "Have you had the good fortune to be able to enjoy the society of someone with whom you might easily converse with?"

"I have enjoyed the society of many worthy people here in Sanditon, Mrs Parker," her voice fell somewhat.

Charlotte felt for Allison. There were many times that people had suggested a deeper feeling on her part than she felt. It was the burden of being popular with young men. Everyone assumed you were instantly in love if you spoke three sentences together with them. Luckily, Charlotte never had occasion to have these assumptions made, for she had no compunction to dismiss them outright. "Allison has happy manners, and everyone enjoys her company so much that they seek her society over most."

"I can well believe it," smiled Mary Parker.

And Charlotte then knew that Mrs Parker did not mean to create unease for her sister. She was genuinely making conversation. "Well, it is getting on in the evening, Allison. Shall we go?" she glanced at Sidney, who was speaking with Tom and Lord and Lady Babington. John was still speaking with Georgiana. Charlotte stood and went over to her brother. "Georgiana," she smiled. "How are you?"

"Very well, Charlotte," she stood and took her hands. "Your brother and I were just discussing all of the places we'd love to visit."

"Have you? I imagine you'll need another week to cover it all," she smiled. "John," and she dropped her hands. "We really should be going."

"Oh, yes. Of course," he stood. "Can I call tomorrow, Miss Lambe?"

"I'm counting on it," she smiled. "Sidney," she called over, with less mirth in her voice. "I'd like to walk back."

Charlotte swallowed then turned to see Sidney walking toward them. "Well, then, Georgiana. I'll see you back," he nodded.

They all said good night to Tom and Mary, then left.

* * *

Because it wasn't a terribly far walk back, the party all agreed that an evening stroll along the shoreline was in order. And Charlotte hung back a bit with the hope that Sidney might do the same. They hadn't spoken all evening.

She was pleased that he took notice and slowed his pace.

He had been thinking that he had been too presumptive that afternoon, and that she might be cross with him. Or, at least, desirous of space. He was in fact a bit uneasy at striking up a conversation with her, thinking that she might not want to speak at all.

But he was mistaken, for when he began to walk beside her along the shoreline, she offered him a smile. "It was a lovely evening, was it not, Mr Parker?"

"It is much lovelier now," he returned.

"You flatter me."

"I do. But it doesn't follow that it's untrue."

She laughed.

And he returned it. "What will you do tomorrow, Miss Heywood?"

"Mrs Parker asked if I might help her with some of the party preparations."

"Excellent. So then we will see one another tomorrow."

"So it would seem."

They walked along a moment. "Have you heard from Willingden?"

"Allison has been corresponding with my mother, yes. They are all well. My brother Charlie complains a lot about having to look after the littles, but he is apt to be quite changeful…I'm certain he doesn't mind that much."

He smiled at her, nodding. "Are you close with your other siblings?"

"Not so much as John and Allison, no. The twins…Caroline and Lilliana, they are both excitable and opinionated. And the littles…well. I love them all so much."

"I'm certain that they all miss you."

Charlotte shrugged. "Perhaps."

"I did write to Ms Campion," he said abruptly, and the mood changed. "But have not sent it on."

"That puts me in mind…Lady Babington knows a Lady Bertram…"

"You asked Lady Babington?"

"I did," she said simply, looking over at him. "She told me that Lady Bertram is a midwife."

"Yes," said Sidney. "Lord Babington said the same."

"Well…did he tell you what type of things she practices as a midwife?"

Sidney stopped. He turned to her. "What sorts of things?"

Charlotte blushed. "Well…to dispose of…unwanted…" she swallowed. "It's uncomfortable to speak of such things."

"Yes," he nodded. "I see," Babington did not tell him that bit. Perhaps he did not know…Sidney looked to the dusk falling around them. But why would Eliza mention her in a letter? "This is all terribly confounding, Miss Heywood."

"Mr Parker…it's not my business…but…is it possible that…" she hated herself for asking this. "Is it possible that Ms Campion…that she's…?"

"No," he replied abruptly. "No it's not."

Charlotte nodded and hung her head. How horrendous that she needed to ask, but there it was. "It was a logical conclusion, if one thinks on it."

"Forgive me. Yes, I understand. Of course…" he shook his head and took Charlotte's hands in his. "But I have not been…" he blushed at this. "I have not done anything dishonorable. She is not my wife."

Charlotte looked up at him. "She soon shall be."

He sighed, closing his eyes. He dropped her hands. "Yes she shall," he said, rubbing his face. "Come, Miss Heywood. We are forgetting that this time is meant for us. Let's get you back to the hotel."

She smiled and turned. "Where has everyone gone to?"

"It appears that we have that effect on people…" he laughed.

"How irregular!" Charlotte exclaimed with a returning laugh.

They walked along until they reached the street entrance and headed over to the hotel. "I suppose your brother took Georgiana back," observed Sidney.

"That would be my guess."

"They are certainly attached," he observed. They reached the hotel and stopped. Sidney folded his hands behind his back.

"Yes. It's nice to see."

He nodded in agreement. "Well, Miss Heywood. I bid you goodnight," he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

Her breath caught, and she was suddenly struck at how much she loved him…how she longed to kiss him…"Good night," she managed. "I'll see you tomorrow," she curtsied.

Sidney bowed, still holding her hand. "Good night, Miss Heywood," he breathed.

Charlotte took a long glance upwards, then turned and went inside.

Sidney decided to check that Georgiana had made it safely to her house, then would head back to Trafalgar House, where he would likely not sleep.

* * *

Charlotte went upstairs to find Allison up and writing a letter. "Allison…whom are you writing to?"

"Mother," she said distractedly.

"Again?" she took off her bonnet and things.

"Yes…" she dipped her quill. "How is Mr Parker?"

Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed, playing with the ribbons on her bonnet. "He's very well, I believe."

Allison turned to look at her. "Charlotte, it pains me to see you this way. As it does John."

She shook her head. "Well, what's to be done?"

She worried her lip. "Perhaps we go home."

"We will go home, Allison."

"But…perhaps we leave earlier."

Charlotte furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

And Allison's eyes welled. "Oh, Charlotte! I am sorry…I'm so very wicked. I…"

"Allison!" and she went to her sister and held her. "What's happened?"

She was sobbing. "I love him, Charlotte. And it's hopeless…"

Charlotte knelt next to her. "Do you mean Mr Stringer?"

She nodded. "And he writes to me…we correspond. And he most recently asked me if you'd be agreeable to a marriage proposal," she wept. "He means to ask you, Charlotte. And of course you must accept him if you wish. But how can I live with him as my brother?"

"No, Allison. Of course I shall _not_ be accepting Mr Stringer. How can you think such a thing?"

"I don't know! I don't know anything anymore…" she cried.

And Charlotte held her sister, then coaxed her to standing so that she could help her ready herself for bed. Allison was in a very bad way, for she fell asleep almost as soon as she laid down.

But as for Charlotte, she was wide awake. What a mess! How could James Stringer still have designs on her! They've barely spoken since their arrival. She looked at the open letter on the desk. It was addressed to Mr Stringer.

_Dear Mr Stringer,_

_I should very much like a walk tomorrow. Charlotte has business at Trafalgar House, so I have time. _

_As for your question, _

And that was all there was.

Perhaps she ought to speak with Mr Stringer to set him straight about all of this.


	11. Chapter 11

The week passed by with Charlotte enjoying Sidney's company for at least a couple of hours every day. The party was to occur Saturday evening, with Sidney Parker leaving on Sunday.

It was now Thursday, and Mrs Mary Parker was in a state. Charlotte couldn't understand what Mary was so fussed about…only those who were close to them were coming. But distressed she was, and she continued to fret over things. "Mary, it's only a small gathering. One that you've had twice this week," said Charlotte as the cook left with the menu.

"I know. But I want it to be perfect for Sidney. Who knows when we'll see him? He'll be off planning weddings and goodness knows what else!" Mary left in a state.

Charlotte's mouth was dry. She sat down and picked up one of the napkins, and folded it. This past week had seen her with Sidney every day…in fact, she had spent time with him every day since she arrived save two. She laughed with him. Spoke about her views, and listened to his. She found that they agreed on most things, and the things they did not, they were able to amicably reconcile.

She was loathe to admit it, but she felt as though he was the most well suited person for her that she could fathom.

Charlotte stood and looked out of the window into the vast garden of Trafalgar House. Mr Stringer had not offered her any proposal, and Allison had been assuaged; she was now comforted by the fact that James had _not_ come to her sister with any offers. And though Allison had no reason to believe he wouldn't, she knew that Charlotte would not accept him. That was also a comfort to her.

John had been enjoying the company of Georgiana nearly every day as well. He was not the most forthcoming person when it came to such matters, but Charlotte detected something akin to fierce admiration, if indeed, not love, in John's voice now when he spoke of her. She took note that he didn't speak of her often, which was odd, for he tended to speak effusively over those whom he appreciated. But he had gotten within himself, and now avoided the conversation concerning one Ms Lambe, and Charlotte was neither surprised nor had she expected this. She attempted in vain to draw him out, but it seemed he was unwilling to oblige.

And so all of the Heywood's were suffering to a degree. It was difficult to know whose pain was more acute, though Charlotte was apt to believe it to be Allison, for unrequited love is a torment.

She swallowed and turned back to the room. In just a couple of days, this room would be filled, and she would be spending her last evening with Sidney…for henceforth he must be only Mr Parker.

"Miss Heywood!" Tom Parker entered the room. "How are you this fine morning? Helping Mary?" he poured himself some tea.

"I was…she left a bit ago, I know not where," Charlotte smiled and sat down.

"Ah, she's always busy with something," he cooed. "But how are things with you, Charlotte?" he sipped.

"I'm well enough."

"Yes?" he looked at her with some concern.

"As well as can be expected," she amended.

He nodded. "Sidney will be leaving on Sunday."

"Yes I know."

He nodded. "I must apologize, Charlotte. It's my fault that the two of you are in such a position."

"Not at all," and she poured herself some tea.

"No, please allow me to say this. I know that Sidney loves you, Charlotte. And I can see that you love him…and it is my fault that I didn't purchase the insurance to save Sanditon. It was always something that I meant to do…and if I had to do it over again, of course I would," he looked at her. "I'm so very, very sorry."

"Of course," she nodded. "I cannot pretend that I'm not quite upset about all of it," Charlotte began. "But I know it wasn't purposeful, and that you feel badly about it."

He nodded. "Well. What will you do for the remainder of the day?"

"I'm not certain. Perhaps walk in the garden for a bit until supper. Mary invited Allison and John."

"How is Mr Stringer?"

Charlotte smiled. "He's busy."

"Good. Excellent. Well…as a budding architect, I imagine he should be."

"It is unfortunate that he's so often away, but…it is a credit to his character that he takes his employment so seriously."

Tom nodded in agreement.

"Would you mind, Mr Parker, if I borrowed one of your books and took it outside to read?" she was admiring his collection.

"No not at all. Help yourself, Miss Heywood," and he stood, leaving.

She walked over to the bookshelves and started reading some of the titles. Charlotte loved verse, but did not have much experience with novels. She chose one and left with her bonnet.

The day was lovely…it appeared as though some low hanging clouds were rolling in, but none were terribly dark, so she believed the only thing they'd do would be to offer some shade as they covered the sun. She tied her bonnet and began walking through the park. Trafalgar House boasted a rather large park, with slightly sloping grounds and wildflowers. Since it was August, and the summer was still blooming, there were plenty of flowers about. She walked over to a smallish garden of concentrated flowers and sat down, opening the book.

It was _The Monk_, by Matthew Lewis.

Charlotte blushed. She had heard of this novel, and none of it was good. Scandalous and depraved were two of the most common adjectives she believed she heard about it. She swallowed, not knowing what to do…

Should she read it? She would be such a knave to do so…

"Miss Heywood!"

Charlotte snapped the book shut and turned to see Sidney approaching. She smiled. "Hello, Mr Parker."

He walked up to the garden's edge. "Enjoying the sunshine?"

"Very much."

"Are you all alone, then?"

She nodded.

"Might I join you?"

"Of course," and she slid the book under the skirt of her dress. "How are you today, Mr Parker?"

"Well enough. Mary is in a fit with this party. I can't understand it."

"I imagine she only wants to make certain that you enjoy yourself."

"I don't doubt it. But she need only invite you, Miss Heywood, and I would have all the enjoyment I require," he looked at her.

Charlotte blushed. "We should stop saying such things, Mr Parker."

"What? Do you mean the truth?"

"Whatever it is. It's not helpful."

Sidney looked out at the house below. "No. And if you are uncomfortable…"

"It's not that. It's more like…" she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Shall I leave you alone, Miss Heywood?" he looked back at her now.

She only just realized how close he was. And she felt ill at the prospect. "No," she breathed. "No, I should not welcome that."

"Good," he returned in a whisper. "For being near you sustains me."

Charlotte nodded, and watched as he tore his gaze from her and reached for a flower in between them. It was a white daisy. "For you. Put in your Heraclitus book," he smiled.

"My Heraclitus book?"

"Wasn't that what you were reading? I know Tom has a copy."

"Oh!" and she touched the book…"No," she choked. "No…in fact I hadn't read a page of this."

"What is it?"

"Ah…well…" she blushed. "Nothing of consequence. I've never heard of it," she lied.

"No?" he reached for it.

"Let's go back," and she stood, daisy and book in hand.

"All right," he crookedly smiled, and stood. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes of course. Why should you ask?" she she started back down the hill, into the basin where Trafalgar House sat.

"You're behaving in a peculiar manner…" he caught her up. "What is the book, Miss Heywood?"

She started to run. "Nothing!" and though it was mostly a game now, she honestly did not want him to know what she was reading. Or not reading. What would he think of her!

Sidney followed suit, then grabbed her elbow. He pulled her against him. They were both in a pant. He looked down at her. Careful, Sidney. You forget yourself…for he was staring at her mouth. He swallowed, catching his breath. He noticed that she, too, was looking at his mouth. "Charlotte," he breathed.

But she backed away. "Excuse me, Mr Parker."

He watched as she walked into the house.

* * *

Supper was a bit more quiet than usual. John seemed to be completely preoccupied. Allison was taciturn. And Charlotte was attempting to avoid eye contact with Sidney. She was a bit embarrassed by her display that afternoon.

Sidney, for his part, was overwrought. He thought that he had made Charlotte so uncomfortable that she would likely ignore him until he left. And this, he could not bear. He wanted desperately to go to her and ask to speak with her alone, but he knew she would only despise him further.

Tom and Mary chatted away about things. About the new construction happening with Sanditon, about the estimates he had received, about the children…they almost seemed oblivious to the disconcerted nature of their guests.

Dinner was through, and Tom asked if Sidney would join him for a cigar.

And Charlotte watched as they went out to the side veranda. "John, Allison, will you both not care to have a turn in the garden?"

Neither of them made much of a fuss, but stood. "Mrs Parker?" John asked.

"No thank you, Mr Heywood. I need to see to some business. And we need an after dinner port," she smiled, standing.

The three Heywood's walked out into the falling twilight. Torches had been lit, and the stars were just starting to bloom in the sky. "We are a miserable lot," said Charlotte after a fashion.

"True," said John.

"Why, John? What's the matter with you?" asked Allison.

"I'm afraid that Miss Lambe has taken a fancy to me."

Charlotte looked at him. "But why should that be cause for concern?"

"Well, though I like her very much, she is desirous to move back to Antigua. Permanently. And I do not know that I would be willing to engage myself thusly."

"Do you love her, John?" Allison stopped walking.

"I …" he swallowed. "I believe so."

"You believe so?" asked Charlotte. "Don't you know?"

"How does one know, Charlotte?"

She smiled. "If you need to ask, you aren't."

"Better without it, I say," said Allison hotly.

"Now sister. That reeks of bitterness and resentment," said Charlotte.

"Well. How would you feel if Sidney Parker were in love with me?" she spat.

"Allison! Are you in love with Mr Stringer?" John gasped.

And Allison burst into tears. "Oh, John!" she cried. "Ever so much."

"Dearest," John went to her. "Love is truly awful," he put his arm around her.

"Yes it is," said Charlotte. "But it is also wonderful…" and she touched Allison's hand as she held fiercely to her brother. "I'm so sorry, Allison."

She pulled away. "It's not your fault."

"Nor is it yours. Oh! I wish there was a happy ending to this for all of us," she despaired. "Perhaps we should all just go home and see to our wounds."

"That I should not wish to happen," said a voice from behind them. Sidney Parker stepped out of the shadow.

"Mr Parker. How long were you there?" asked Charlotte.

"Only a minute or so."

"Come, Allison. Let me get you some port," John led her inside.

Charlotte watched as her siblings left her alone with Sidney. He stepped toward her. "You'll forgive my behavior this afternoon, Miss Heywood. I often seem to forget myself around you."

She cleared her throat. "Do not trouble yourself. It was my fault for escalating the situation unnecessarily."

"It was not your fault. You were being playful…it's one of the things I so love about you."

"Please don't Mr Parker."

"Apologies," he took another step toward her. "I'm being selfish. But then, it's what I do best, is it not?"

"No," she looked at him. "No. I don't believe that to be true."

"You are too generous."

"You are a good man, Mr Parker. I would not care about you as I do if you were not."

"I can well believe it."

She smiled. "Shall we go in for some port?"

"Only after you answer a question for me."

Charlotte canted her head.

"What was the book you had?"

"Oh…" she blushed and dropped her gaze. "Must you know that?"

"With that response, yes I must."

She sighed. "The Monk."

"The…?"

Charlotte looked at him. "The Monk? Matthew Lewis?"

"Oh…" he smiled at her. "You're familiar with it, then?"

"Only incidentally. I've never read it. And I hadn't read a word when you happened upon me."

He laughed. "Never mind then, Miss Heywood. You are untarnished," he offered her his arm.

And she took it.

At that, they heard a horse approaching, with a rider atop it. He galloped up to the pair. "I'm looking for a Mr Sidney Parker."

"I'm Sidney Parker."

"A letter, sir," and he handed him a note.

Sidney took it, tipped the man, then looked at the letter.

It was from Eliza.

* * *

_A/N: I hope to finish this this coming __weekend. Probably just three more chapters!_


	12. Chapter 12

"Charlotte."

"Yes?" her heart quickened. Something was amiss.

Sidney looked at her. "It's from Eliza."

"Oh," she blanched. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then."

"No stay," and he touched her arm, then swallowed. "Please."

Her face betrayed her, and she nodded. "Very well."

He looked around, then walked over to a stone bench and sat. His hands were trembling as he opened the letter. Sidney could not account for it…he wasn't certain what he would read at all…

_Dearest,_

_Surely you remember Lady Bertram! We've met her at least once. She's a tall lady. Dark hair. She was speaking with Mister Leeds from Bath when we first came home from Sanditon. How curious that you should forget her!_

_Anxiously awaiting your return,_

_Eliza._

But then there was another note. He opened it…

_Sidney,_

_I must beg your return as soon as you are able. Something of an extraordinary nature has occurred, but I am loathe to put it in a letter. _

_I know that you are scheduled to return on Sunday, but if you are able, return either Friday or Saturday. It really is most urgent._

_Eliza._

His brow furrowed, then he handed them to Charlotte. Both were such abbreviated letters, neither were like her at all.

And what could possibly have occurred? He couldn't account for it.

As for Charlotte, she felt ill. What did it mean? "Well. It appears that you need to leave tomorrow," she handed the letters back to him.

"No. I'll leave Saturday. She gave me the choice," he took them from her. "I'll ask Mary if she can move the party to tomorrow evening."

"Is that wise? She sounds desperate."

"Eliza is often one to make something out of nothing."

"But she seems as though something truly awful has happened."

Sidney sat back. "Of course she does. She likely wasn't happy with my own letter. Not up to her standards of a proper letter," he nearly spat the words. "I'll not have her ruin this completely, Charlotte," he was impassioned. "I'll leave a day early, just as she suggested."

She swallowed. "Sidney…"

He smiled.

"She is your fiance. You should go to her."

"I will," he took her hand. "On Saturday."

Charlotte looked at him, then took her hand back. "What does she mean by it?"

"Who knows?" he shrugged.

She felt disconcerted by his dismissive reaction, yet also elated. "But this first letter…are you certain that you don't know Lady Bertram?"

"No. I cannot recall having ever met such a person."

"It's so strange."

"That it is," he said softly. He tore his gaze away. "Well," and he stood. "I must find Mary and ask her about the party."

"I should go as well," she stood. "My brother and sister are not in any fit state to remain here in company."

"We are such a lot," he remarked, then took her hand. "Until tomorrow," and he kissed it, then turned.

She should have stopped him.

But she had no desire to.

* * *

He didn't sleep that night. Mary, Tom, and he has stayed up rather late discussing moving the party as well as Eliza's letters. Not one of the three made sense to any of the Parker's. It became even more confounding when he told them that Lady Bertram was a midwife.

"Is it possible that she's …." Tom began. "Well…"

"In a delicate way?" supplied Mary.

"It is possible. But I wouldn't be the child's father," Sidney responded.

And Mary's eyes fell. "I'm sorry, Sidney."

"It's a logical conclusion. I'm not cross."

She sighed. "But all of this is ridiculous! What can she mean, being so cryptic?"

"I don't know," sighed Sidney. "It's truly baffling," he looked at Mary. "Might you move the party to tomorrow evening? I'll leave Saturday."

"Yes of course. But don't you want to return as soon as possible?"

"No. I'll return on Saturday. She offered that as an option."

Tom and Mary looked at one another. "It's not my business, Sidney, but…" began Tom.

"No it's not your business," interrupted Sidney. "So I'll ask you to keep your opinions to yourself," and he stood. "I understand your concern, however, I know what I'm doing. Please do not interfere," he swallowed, then bowed. "Good night."

* * *

Charlotte was fiddling with her napkin at breakfast. She was thinking that she'd be better off in Willingden. Why did she come? Her eyes welled slightly. She had subjected her most beloved siblings to such horrific heartache.

"Miss Heywood?" a soft voice sounded.

She looked up.

It was Mr Stringer. "Can I join you a moment?"

Charlotte swallowed. "Yes of course."

James Stringer sat down. "I wanted to speak with you about a very particular matter."

"All right," oh no…

"Charlotte! Mr Stringer!" Allison arrived. "How are you this morning?"

James glanced at Charlotte then smiled. "I'm quite well, Miss Allison. I understand that the party the Parker's are hosting has been moved to this evening."

"Has it?" Allison looked at Charlotte.

"Yes," smiled she. "It needed to be, for Mr Sidney Parker is called to London tomorrow instead of Sunday."

"Oh…" Allison looked crookedly at her sister.

Charlotte abruptly stood. "I'm going for a walk. Good morning," she nodded, and left them there.

She didn't want to discuss things, and she did _not_ want to sit there alone with James Stringer. She had not idea what he had wanted to discuss with her, and she honestly did not want to find out.

Charlotte headed out to the shoreline. The morning was dawning peach and yellow…she reflected on the fact that she'd been at Sanditon for nearly two weeks. Half way through her stay.

She kicked at the sand. She felt small. It helped to think about things that way…for her problems often seemed to loom large in her mind. And though she knew that her problems were large to her in the moment, she also had the presence of mind to recognize that they would not always be so consuming.

She walked to the end of the immediate shoreline, then started back.

The breeze picked up behind her as she strode along. She sighed, trying to regain some semblance of herself.

She was in love with a betrothed man. Her sister was in love with a man who seemed to be on the verge of proposing to her.

It was not impossible that Sidney's fiancé was with child. _His_ child.

And she felt absolutely ill.

A tear ran down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away.

Charlotte took a deep breath. She hadn't mentioned her concern to Sidney…she had no idea what she would say, anyway. It wasn't her business.

And she thought if it was…what rights did she have, being in love with someone? None. Not really. She had no real right to know things. She only could lament her own heart. Eliza Campion had all of the rights.

She stopped and looked out into the expanse of the sea. But neither did he, Sidney, have rights over her. She owed him nothing…

And a small part of her wanted to return to the hotel and listen to what James Stringer had to say. It would behoove her, in a way, to accept him should he propose. He was a promising young architect. He could offer her a nice life.

Except that Allison was in love with him, and she, Charlotte, was not.

The party was to begin at six. It would be a lifetime until then.

* * *

They walked to Trafalgar House in all but silence. Mr Stringer was joining them after dinner. Charlotte was glad for it. She reproved herself for ever considering marrying him; he, whom she did not love.

A part of her thought that she was really not in a position to refuse an offer, but also that she could, in theory, afford to. She was not that old. Nor that poor.

They entered the house and Allison and Charlotte hung their bonnets.

"Good evening!" exclaimed Tom Parker. "Miss Lambe is here already. Unfortunately, Lord and Lady Babington could not accommodate the day change, so we are only waiting on Mr Stringer…" he smiled broadly. "Please, come in…" They all followed him to the sitting room where Georgiana and Sidney were waiting.

Charlotte caught his eye. He smiled and went over to her. "Good evening, Miss Heywood. You look lovely."

"Thank you, Mr Parker. You appear to be well."

"I am now," he said softly.

She blushed.

"Can I tempt you with some wine and some air before dinner?"

"Oh…yes. That sounds lovely," Charlotte nodded, then looked at John. He was speaking with Georgiana animatedly. She smiled. He was very fond of her, she could see that plainly. Then she glanced at Allison…she was speaking with Mary. Her smile did not reach her eyes.

"Miss Heywood?" Sidney was next to her, holding two glasses of wine.

Charlotte took one. "Thank you," and she slid her free arm through his.

They walked out into the pale evening. The sun was low, but still lighting the sky enough so that the torches were not yet lit. Sidney walked over to the edge of the veranda, and sipped the wine. "I am a very selfish man, Miss Heywood," he was not looking at her. Instead, he was looking out into the falling dusk.

Charlotte sat on a bench behind him. "You've said."

He turned and smiled very quickly. "I know that you think that I'm not because of my altruistic behavior regarding Tom," he sat next to her. "But that is more of a habit and a debt. My brothers helped me some time ago. I am repaying them. Well…Tom, at any rate."

"A wicked man would not bother with repayment."

He chuckled. "You continue to be much too generous."

"You continue to paint yourself as some monstrous figure."

"Because…" he swallowed. "Because of what I am doing to you. It cannot be described any other way."

She lowered her gaze. "Mr Parker. What will happen?" she breathed.

"Happen?" he furrowed his brow, but she did not see.

"To us. To everyone."

"I have no means of reading the future, Charlotte. I only know that I love you, and I'm leaving tomorrow…"

She stared at him, swallowed, then drank her wine. "We should go in for dinner," and she stood.

Sidney followed.

* * *

Dinner was served not long afterwards, with James Stringer coming just as they all sat down. It was not a solemn affair. Sidney spoke mostly with Charlotte. They discussed their favorite meals. They talked about what they ate as children. Charlotte described helping with meals, while Sidney said he seldom did such a thing. "Your future wife may want some help here and there," she smiled.

"I do not wish to discuss her," he replied without feeling.

She blanched. She had only meant it in jest. "Forgive me, Mr Parker…"

"There is nothing to forgive. I simply don't want to think about my future wife."

Charlotte nodded. She glanced around, and Mr Stringer caught her eye. He smiled.

"There will be some music after dinner," said Mrs Parker to the company. "I do hope to have a very little bit of dancing."

"Mary, you know how I feel about dancing," said Sidney.

"Precisely why you should, if only a reel or two," she winked.

Charlotte laughed a bit, then put her fork down. "Excuse me," and she stood, then walked out into the night. She breathed deeply. It was a lovely night.

"Miss Heywood!"

She sighed.

Mr Stringer. She turned. "Hello, Mr Stringer."

"It is a lovely evening," he smiled.

"It is indeed."

"Dinner was lovely."

"Quite," she wondered how many more things were going to be lovely.

"Miss Heywood…we never competed our conversation this morning."

"No," she swallowed. "No we did not."

"Ah!" came a voice. "There you are," came Sidney Parker's voice.

She smiled. "Hello, Mr Parker."

"Miss Allison was just looking for you, Mr Stringer. It appears that the dancing is about to commence…and she was hoping you'd offer to dance."

"Oh," James shifted. "Very good," he turned to Charlotte. "We can continue later, then," and he bowed.

Sidney watched him leave. He was inclined to ask what he wanted, but didn't. He knew it would make her defensive, and that was the last thing he wanted…"It's a truly beautiful night."

"Yes. Mr Stringer had just made that same observation," she chuckled.

"Did he? And did he observe the beauty of his interlocutor?"

"No. He did not mention it," she blushed.

"Well, then. I'd say he's a fool."

"Come, Mr Parker. He is no such thing," she admonished.

"Isn't he?" he sounded accusatory.

"No. And Allison is in love with him, so he very well might become my brother."

"He desires a different sort of relationship, I believe."

"He may desire anything he wants. That does not mean it will happen," she replied with resolve.

He laughed out loud. "Oh, I do love you, Charlotte Heywood."

She smiled. "And I love you, Sidney Parker."

And that was all he needed. He went to her, took her face in his hands, and claimed her lips…

…and it was passionate, much more so than their first encounter. She sighed into his mouth as he played it open. He wrapped on arm rounder waist, the other hand went to the back of her head. Charlotte held onto his shoulders for purchase. It lazed on, he held her close, and they stayed that way until it became too much.

Charlotte pulled away, her mouth swollen, her eyes heavy. "Mr Parker…" she whispered.

"Please, Charlotte," he breathed. "Let us…" he swallowed. "Let us return. We can enjoy the rest of the evening."

She nodded, and followed him back inside, a sort of haze blanketing her.

And they danced long after the torches were extinguished, and everyone was long too tired to continue.

Mr Stringer and Allison left for the hotel, and John walked Georgiana home.

"I'll walk you, Miss Heywood," said Sidney.

She nodded.

They took the shoreline back, their fingertips touching. They did not speak. The moon was low, casting a light over the sand.

When they reached the hotel, Sidney stopped, and took her hand in his. "Charlotte…I'm sorry about all of this. Please know that I shall love you always."

"And I, you," two tears slid down her face. "I shall never forget you."

"I should hope not," he smiled, and touched her cheek.

Sidney Parker rubbed his thumb across her cheek, then dropped his hand, and turned away.

And Charlotte watched as he left her there. She turned and walked into the hotel, up to the room, where she heard Allison pretending to be sound asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

He did not sleep again that night. In fact, it was becoming unhealthy, the amount of sleep he was losing. Sidney stayed up, looking out of the window, and crying.

He hadn't cried in what felt like years. It likely was years.

But he felt trapped, and his reprieve was now over. There was nothing to be done. He would go to Eliza, see what the fuss was, and marry her. He wondered how much time he had until they were actually married.

They had not settled on a date. It was long passed what was a customary amount of time to wait, anyway.

At nine in the morning, he packed his things and walked into town to catch the coach. He has waited until the last possible minute, for he did not want to risk seeing Charlotte. He did not think that he could leave if he saw her.

* * *

"Charlotte? Dearest?"

She looked over at her brother, glassy eyed. "Yes?"

"You aren't well," he whispered, taking her hand.

"I'll be fine, John," she smiled.

"Where is Allison?"

"She went for a walk quite early," she said, swallowing, and taking her hand back. "I've been thinking…I think I want to return to Willingden. You and Allison can stay. But I want to leave."

"But…Charlotte," he smiled. "This is a reprieve that you surely need."

"Everything here reminds me of him. And without him here, I cannot stay. I doubt I'll ever be able to return," she sipped her milk. "Being at home, keeping busy. That's what my mind needs in order to heal my heart."

John nodded. "When do you want to leave?"

"Tomorrow. I'll go today to Trafalgar House to thank the Parker's and such. Speak with Mr Stringer…" her voice trailed.

"Come, dear. Let's go for a walk. It's been a while," he stood and offered her his hand.

She took it.

And out into the midmorning sun they walked. "How is Georgiana?" she asked.

"She is everything wonderful," he mused. "I am quite taken."

"Oh, John. That is lovely. She is such a dear."

"Yes. But I cannot say that I am quite ready to propose to her."

"Why ever not?" she looked at him.

"Well, because of the reasons I had previously mentioned. I do not wish to leave England. All of our family…" he swallowed. "How could I possibly leave you, Charlotte?"

"Oh, John!" she cried. "I do not want you to leave! But happiness in marriage is, I believe, so difficult to secure that you must seize on it when you have the opportunity."

"I cannot leave," he replied. "Perhaps we can arrange something where we divide our time. If, in fact, she wants to marry at all."

"You love her, dear?" she smiled.

"I do. It took some time for me to recognize it as such, but I do. Yes."

"When will you propose?"

"I'm not certain…would you want to have her answer for when you return home?"

She laughed and slipped her arm through his as they strode through the town. "That is not for me to say, John! That's entirely up to you. Now only to see Allison so happy!"

"And you, Charlotte. Do not forget yourself."

She sighed. "My happiness is half way to London off to marry another. There is no hope for me."

* * *

Sidney walked to his home in London. He had not asked for another coach, desiring the time to stretch his legs.

He went up the stairs and opened the door. He didn't think about seeing Eliza. He wanted only to go to bed.

Sidney walked into his sitting room.

"Sidney, dear."

"Eliza," he replied without feeling. What _was_ she doing here.

"I'm so happy you're here," she went to him and wrapped her arms around him.

He was stiff and stilted in his responding gesture. "It is good to see you."

She pulled away and looked up at him. "It's nearly tea. Are you hungry?"

"Not at all."

"Well. Please sit. We have much to discuss," and she sat on the loveseat, gesturing for him to sit next to her.

He sat on the sofa across the room.

She swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Thank you for coming today. I waited for you here yesterday, but obviously you did not leave yet."

"Obviously."

Eliza nodded. "Sidney, something of a most alarming nature has occurred. The constable was at my house on Monday."

"The constable?" this, he had not expected.

"Yes. Oh, Sidney! Someone has reported me to the constable that *I* had something to do with Mr Campion's death!"

"What?" he was dumbfounded.

"Yes. Isn't it outrageous? But I need for you to vouch for me. Tell them that I'd never do such a thing."

He let out a small breath. "Eliza. Why would someone accuse you of something so heinous?"

"How should I know? Someone is obviously jealous of me. They dislike that I'm wealthy and young."

He sat back, observing her. "Do you know has accused you?"

"I do not."

He looked at her very steadily. He nodded. "I need the evening."

"The evening? For what?" she demanded.

"Eliza…you just told me that you're being accused of murdering your husband. I am your fiancé. Surely you see what my concerns are."

"You believe them?" she hissed.

"I did not say that."

"No. But it was implied," she stood.

He followed. "Eliza, allow me to think about all of this. Give me the evening."

She swallowed, and offered a curt nod. "I'll see you in the morning."

Sidney watched her leave, then went directly to his desk and began to compose a letter.

* * *

Charlotte walked to Trafalgar House with a bit of a heavy heart. She knocked on the door and waited.

As she entered the lounge, she saw Mr and Mrs Parker talking softly by the hearth. "Miss Heywood!" exclaimed Mary Parker. "Come, sit down."

"Thank you," said Charlotte, smiling. She sat and folded her hands. "I am come to speak with you about my eminent departure."

"What?" asked Mary, a dumbfounded look on her face.

"Yes. I am leaving tomorrow. I cannot stay here in Sanditon, much as I may want to."

"But…" Tom began to object.

"Mr Parker, I really must leave. It is all too painful for me to stay," she said softly.

"Oh, Miss Heywood. I am sorry," he said.

She nodded.

"Will John and Allison be joining you?" asked Mary.

"I'm thinking that Allison might. John, I cannot say."

"Do, please stay for luncheon," said Mary.

"Thank you," smiled Charlotte.

They sat and spoke for some time after eating, and after Tom left to see to business. Mary was sympathetic, but did not offer much in terms of hope. For this, Charlotte was grateful. She did not think something as dangerous as want would help her cause.

"I can tell you that I've never seen him thus, Charlotte. He loves you very much."

She nodded. "It is as though he is part of me…as if…" she paused. "As if he was the other part that I've been searching for my entire life. Not as if I've been unfulfilled…" she amended. "Rather, that I did not know I was missing something until I found it in him."

Mary raised her hands to her heart. "Oh! Dearest. That truly is the very nature of love," and Charlotte watched as her eyes welled. "I only hope that someone will come to you that will satisfy, if only party, what Sidney did for you."

Charlotte shrugged. "I do not know what will happen, but at least I had a short time in my life when I can say that I had love."

The afternoon soon aged, and Charlotte was compelled to leave and see to her siblings. She walked alone to the hotel and felt some of her sorrow ebb.

* * *

Sidney left in an abrupt manner, letter sealed. He hoped that he could find a page in a hurry. "You there!" and he paid an outrageous fee to have that letter delivered to Lady Bertram.

* * *

"You're unwell, I can tell. Don't say it's because of Sidney Parker," Georgiana was sitting with Charlotte by the hearth in the lobby of the hotel.

"Well, yes. I love him, Georgiana."

"Good lord."

She laughed. "But I have no wish to speak of myself. How are you? I've only spoken to you fleetingly over this fortnight, and I'm to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But…is Mr Heywood joining you?"

"No," Charlotte smiled. "No I do not believe he is."

"And…your sister?"

"That I do not know."

Georgiana sat back. "You know that I love John, don't you?"

She beamed. "Oh! Georgiana! I'm so happy!"

"There are things that need to be discussed, I think."

"But have you reached an understanding?"

She smiled. "Perhaps."

"He is the very best man, Georgiana. And I should be very proud to call you my sister."

"I wish that there was some way to alleviate your heartache, Charlotte."

She smiled at her. "Loving my brother, who I love more than anyone save Sidney Parker, is enough."

* * *

Sidney was waiting for Lady Bertram to arrive. It was past eight in the evening, but she had responded saying that she would visit him. He wasn't certain if it was she who had gone to the constable, but she was most assuredly a player in all of this.

He heard the bell and the servant let her in, and he stood.

Lady Bertram was a tall woman, taller than Eliza. She had very dark hair, and striking features that gave her an air of authority. Her manner could only be described as upright. She wore clothes that seemed as though they were in fashion a few years ago, but she did not appear to be in a bad way. She carried herself with confidence. "Mr Sidney Parker?" her voice was soft. It did not match her appearance.

"Lady Bertram, I presume?" he nodded. "Please, sit down. Would you care for some tea? Port?"

She sat, but did not answer. Instead she looked around. "I was surprised to receive your letter," she remarked as she scanned her surroundings.

"I was surprised that it needed to be written."

"Yes? Well. Ms Eliza Campion is your fiancé, is that not so?"

"It is."

She smiled. it was not an unpleasant smile. "Perhaps I should amend my statement. I'm surprised I did not receive it earlier."

"I beg your pardon?" he leaned closer to her.

"Do you know who I am?"

"I believe so."

She smirked. "And do you know why I am acquainted with your fiancé?"

"I cannot say that I do. In fact, she insists that we met."

"We have never been formally introduced, but I was at a gathering you attended just a month ago now."

"I apologize. I do not recall…"

"Never mind. It isn't important."

He smiled at her quickly. "Tell me, Lady Bertram. What is important?"

She leaned toward him. "What is important, is that during your fiancé's first marriage, I helped her end four pregnancies, and I have reason to believe that she worked to have him murdered."

Sidney's face fell. "What evidence do you have?"

"Her letter to a Mr Young. I believe that she paid him to fetch her poison and dispose of Mr George Campion."

"You have such a letter?"

"I do. She left it during our last appointment mistakenly."

"May I see it?"

"What do you take me for, Mr Parker?" she laughed. "You may come by this address in the morning and I'll show it to you," she handed him her card.

Sidney took it, then stood. "Thank you, Lady Bertram. This is all so…surreal."

"I can well believe it," she stood. "Do not see your fiancé before you leave in the morning, Mr Parker. Come straight to my address. She weaves a spell on men the likes of which I've never seen."

He nodded and saw her out.

Once he closed the door he realized that his hands were shaking. His mouth was dry. He felt light headed. "Lock all of the doors, Jones," he said to his porter. "Alert the staff that Ms Campion is not to enter this house," and he left, going upstairs.

Could this be true? Could Eliza have paid someone to murder George Campion? Were they lovers? Had she aborted four pregnancies? Did she not love George at all? He sat on his bed and felt ill. If these things were true, then he did not know her at all. And what could he do? Turn her over to the constable? She'd hang. What about Sanditon? Where would all of her hundreds of thousands of pounds go?

Should he strike a deal with her? He'd keep quiet if she gave him one hundred thousand pounds?

Could he live with himself?

What if it wasn't true? The fact that he was entertaining this notion spoke volumes about what he thought his fiancé capable of.

Should he listen to a woman he only just met?

And why would Eliza mention her in a letter to him?

Sidney fell back onto his bed, exhausted and confused. "Charlotte," he whispered. "What do I do?"

* * *

_A/N: hello! Two more chapters. If you have ideas about what Sidney should do, I'd dearly love to hear them. I have an idea, of course, but it might be fun to see if we're all on the same page. Thanks for reading!_


	14. Chapter 14

Charlotte and Allison were leaning against one another as the coach rattled on. It was a long drive home, even though it really wasn't that far.

John had opted to stay with his now-finance, Georgiana Lambe. He tasked Charlotte with telling their parents. He would be following his sisters in a fortnight, just as was originally planned.

The sisters were a good deal more than sombre. Allison had not bothered to wish Mr Stringer a goodbye, though Charlotte did. She told him that her sister was not feeling all that well, and that she needed to return home directly.

He seemed to be concerned at the news. "Oh. Well, I do hope that Miss Allison gets better soon, Miss Heywood. Perhaps I can call at Willingden with Mr Heywood when he returns. Or, perhaps I can stop for a visit even sooner," he swallowed.

"Of course," Charlotte replied, more for Allison than herself. "Allison would love to see you."

He smiled, then tipped his hat.

Charlotte sighed as she gazed out of the coach. It would be good to be home. To be among her siblings and to not fret about things.

Though she had to admit to herself, she missed him already.

* * *

Sidney left early in the morning for Lady Bertram's house. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he thought that the first thing he _should_ do is retrieve the supposed incriminating letter from her.

He walked, deep in thought, hands in pockets.

If he recognized Eliza's penmanship, and it was as implicating as was suggested, he'd need to confront her. He didn't wholly trust her as it was, so the idea of confronting her caused him unease.

But he'd have to.

And what if she admitted it?

What if she didn't, and he didn't believe her?

He walked up to Lady Bertram's house…it was a fine place, seated back from the main road. There were low hanging trees and plenty of flowers in her front garden. He hesitated only a moment, thinking that it was possible that this was all a farce, but dismissed it. He rapped smartly on the door.

Her porter opened the door and nodded. "Mr Parker?"

"I'm here to see Lady Bertram."

He stepped aside and offered to take his hat. Sidney refused.

The place was rather dark…he was not expecting that, given the bright foliage outside. It was stuffy, close; heavy with perfume. He followed the porter to the back of the house.

The sitting room was quite bright compared to the hall and the parlor that he had passed. It contained lovely seating, embroidered with flowers. The paint was a light green and the windows reached from the ceiling to the floor.

"Mr Parker."

He turned. Lady Bertram was in the doorway. "Good morning, Lady Bertram. I am come to read the letter you mentioned."

"Yes I know. There are a few things that I should mention before I let you read it," she sat, and gestured for him to.

He did, across the room from her.

She cleared her throat. "Ms Campion has regarded me as her most trusted confidant for nearly nine years."

"Almost the length of her marriage."

"Just so," she nodded. "I am very fond of Eliza. But I fear for her health."

"Her health?"

"Her…." she paused. "It is a delicate matter, Mr Parker. But I believe that she is unwell in her mind."

He cleared his throat. "Her mind."

"Yes. You see, she is terrified to have a child. I cannot account for it…but the four abortions she has had under my care have no other explanation."

"I don't understand."

"I should amend that," she smiled. "The very first time I met Ms Campion, she was in a delicate way, and I helped her. It was not Mr George Campion's child," she looked at him.

"Nor was it mine."

"Very well. However, the consecutive pregnancies were Mr Campion's. And she refused to carry them to term."

Sidney shook his head. "But why?"

"There are several reasons why, I think. But it is not for me to say," she stood and handed him the letter. "Mr Young…I do not know the essence of their relationship, that is, I believe it was always platonic. But the nature of this letter is most concerning, and that is why I am come to believe what I do about Ms Campion."

He took the letter and opened it.

_Dear Edward,_

_What you suggest is not how I should like to proceed. When I said that I was trapped, it was not because I was being forced into any situation. It is more that my own mind is trapping me._

_But oh! To escape the confines of these circumstances. I cannot tell you what that would mean for me. I only agreed to it because my family desired it so, and now, we are eight years on. It stretches out before my eyes._

_If I could find a way out, I'd surely take it. If my mind could be free, what a blessing! _

_But I am rambling. You must do what you must do._

_Please inform me of your plans,_

_Eliza. _

"But this is the most cryptic thing I've ever read," he said, looking at Lady Bertram. "What do you make of it?"

"She and Mr Young had discussed poisoning Mr Campion, and she was wavering. She wanted out of her marriage, but did not know if murder would be the best method."

"And you believe that they went ahead with this plan, and it caused her to lose her mind?"

"No. I believe that Eliza had long been on her way to losing her mind. But she was in a loveless marriage, and grew to loathe her husband by the day," she said.

"You think that she's capable of such a thing?"

She nodded.

"Then I have but one more question. Why would she mention you in a letter to me, when I had no idea who you were?"

Lady Bertram smiled. "It was surely her guilty conscience playing games with her."

He scoffed. What a notion! "Thank you, Lady Bertram," he handed her the letter.

"What will you do?"

"I'm going to confront Ms Campion, and make my decision from there," Sidney stood and left the room.

* * *

Willingden was just as she recalled: lush, green, teeming with life. Charlotte felt her spirits rise as soon as she saw it.

They disembarked and Charlotte took Allison's hand. "Come, Allison. Let there be no more sorrow! We are home."

"Aye. That we are…and way from Mr Stringer and all that he represents."

She sighed. "Dearest, I know that this is not how you desired things to be, but do try to smile a bit, if only for momma."

"I cannot believe that I miss Charlie and the twins!" she said as they walked up to the house.

"I miss all of them," Charlotte smiled.

The littles were in the garden, and Catherine, the youngest, saw them first. "Charlotte! Allison! Oh! Look! They've come!" she ran up to them both. jumping into Charlotte's arms, causing her to drop her bags.

"Darling dear! What a sight you are!" Charlotte kissed every inch of her face. "Where is Charlie? Is he helping Caroline and Lilliana? Or is he off sporting with his mates?" she chided, putting her down.

"He sports every day Charlotte! But he's always here for meals. And he does help Caroline tuck the boys in," Catherine took her hand and pulled her to the house.

"Just the boys?"

"They're scared. I'm much too sensible to be scared."

Charlotte laughed and saw the twins. "Lilliana! Caroline!" she went to them, hugging them both. "How wonderful to see you," she smiled.

They weren't smiling as broadly. "What's happened, Charlotte?" asked Caroline. "When we received your letter this morning, we thought…"

"…all sorts of things," finished Lilliana.

"I'll tell you later," she patted Caroline's hand. "It's nothing to fuss about."

And then Allison came in. "Hello, lovelies," she smiled.

* * *

Sidney was waiting for Eliza in his parlor. He had invited her to come to discuss things and to ascertain his further actions. Part of him believed that he could not marry her, but another part remembered that Tom's family and their well-being depended on him. How could he abandon his family?

He sighed as he sat there, willing himself not to think about Charlotte. He could not bear to hope.

The bell rang, and with the sound his palms pearled sweat. He stood as she entered the room.

"Hello, Sidney," she smiled.

He nodded. "Ms Campion."

And her face fell. "Well. Might I sit?"

"Please," he gestured, and sat as she took the place across from him. "I saw Lady Bertram."

"Did you," she shifted.

"I did. I have many questions, as you might imagine. But one that I simply cannot rid myself of, is why did you mention her in your letter?"

He watched as her eyes begin to well. "You have no idea what I've been through, Sidney Parker," she hissed. "You think that you've lived a life of heartache? It's nothing…nothing. Compared to what I've lived."

"Explain, then."

She swallowed. She appeared to be mulling something over; her eyes skirted around the room. "Are we alone?"

"All of the servants are either in the kitchen or above stairs."

She nodded, then sighed. "When I married Mr Campion, he was a sort of confidant. I had known him for a short while, but had only spoken with him intimately a couple of times. I had told him of my love for you, but how my parents would not have our connection. I met him through a Mr Young. Mr Young, it turned out, was a most wicked man."

"I have never heard you mention him."

"That is because he is of uncertain character, and I turned to him when I knew things would be impossible with you," she swallowed. "He…Mr Young…took advantage of my delicate state. And there I was. And Mr Campion offered me comfort and a way out with funds to assure it."

Sidney stared at her. "You mean…?"

"I ended the pregnancy. That was why I left you so abruptly. And without explanation," she sighed. "I married Mr Campion because he told me that he would assure my safety and reputation after such an interlude. But he was so old, Sidney! And I felt trapped. And I had no friends…and I did not want something like a child to tether me to him should I ever found a way out."

"Good lord."

"Do you judge me? How dare you! You have no right to judge me! I was imprisoned…a loveless marriage is like nothing else. He was wealthy, to be sure. And I wanted for nothing," she paused. "Except my own happiness," her breathing was heavy. "It was nearly eight years on. I saw Mr Young at a ball and we spoke. I told him about my marriage…and we began a correspondence. He became increasingly infatuated with me, and I confided in Lady Bertram. It was wonderful to feel the intimacy of someone who I thought cared for me. Lady Bertram was not so convinced of his regard, but I held tightly to it. And soon he devised a plan to rid me of my marriage."

Sidney's breath was short. "Why would you believe Mr Young after he left you in such a state?"

A tear fell down her face, and she shrugged. "Desperation?" she laughed. "I do not know. Believe me when I tell you I never encouraged his behavior. I do not know if he ever went through with any of it…all I know is that George never woke up one morning."

"And you were a very wealthy widow."

Eliza nodded. "I was a very wealthy widow."

"So, you are an ignorant accomplice," he muttered. "And what of Mr Young?"

"He came to me after the funeral. I dismissed him outright."

"And you ended three pregnancies with your husband."

"I did not love him, Sidney! I could _not_ bear his children!"

"Eliza, I must say that I believe you are a target. If what you say is true, Mr Young is somewhere out there, possibly a murderer, and with full knowledge of who you are. You should leave the country."

She stared at him. "I should leave the country?" she breathed.

"It is advisable."

She swallowed. "And what of you and our marriage?"

He laughed, then stood. "Ms Campion, how could you ask me such a question, when you yourself could not bear to be in a loveless marriage? If you care at all for me, you'll understand how I could never agree to this. And how can I know for certain that you were not involved in Mr Campion's death? You never explained why you mentioned Lady Bertram in your letter."

"I …I believe I must have been mistaken. An honest mistake."

Sidney nodded. "One of the only things about you that has been honest," he scoffed. "Leave the country, Eliza. And for fifty thousand pounds, I will never breathe a word of this."

"You're _bribing me_?" she spat.

"I am. I've told you. I am a selfish man. Fifty thousand pounds, Ms Campion. And rest assured that nothing will come of this…though you may wish to consider paying off Lady Bertram, too. She seems eager to talk," he took her hand and brought her to standing. "I'll be by tomorrow to arrange the exchange," he escorted her to the door. "Good day, Ms Campion," he bowed.

"It's that Heywood girl, isn't it?" she hissed.

"No. It is a loveless marriage that I cannot abide, Eliza. I suppose we are more alike than I realized. But that should make for a terrible match," and out the door she went.

He was free! He laughed, rubbing his face. Good god he was free.

And he thought that he could have demanded more, but why, when he and his own siblings could manage the rest. If nothing else, surely Georgiana could pick up some of the pieces. Perhaps Babington would like a ten thousand pound investment. That sum he could live with asking for from his friend.

Tomorrow morning he would see Eliza, and then he would leave once more for Sanditon.

* * *

Charlotte was sitting out in the garden. It was after supper, and she desperately missed John. They would often come out here and look at the sunset, talking about life. Their day. Nothing of consequence.

But she was alone, and Allison, who was her second choice in the house for a companion, had taken to her room. She was much too depressed. Too overwrought. She had a time just managing dinner. She felt just awful for her.

She sighed, thinking about the days ahead. The John-less days. How would she live without him? She knew that Georgiana meant to return to Antigua. She could only hope that he would manage to convince her to split their time.

For now, not only was she without John, she was irrevocably without Sidney.

And she felt both losses acutely.


	15. Chapter 15

Sidney arrived at Ms Campion's London home first thing in the morning. Lady Bertram was there, waiting to see Eliza.

"Good morning, Mr Parker," she nodded.

He smiled. "Lady Bertram. Are you here to collect?"

"I am here because Ms Campion wrote to me last night asking me to come."

"And why do you think she asked you?"

Lady Bertram looked at him crookedly. "I am no soothsayer, Mr Parker."

"Do you know why I am here?"

"No."

Sidney thought she was lying. She was not so obtuse as that. She knew that he did not love his former fiancé, and she knew that he was not so wealthy as Eliza. It was possible that she even knew about Sanditon.

A porter emerged. "Ms Campion will see you now."

They stood and walked into the sitting room where Eliza was waiting for them. "Well. I am open for business," she said stoically.

"Poor choice of words, Ms Campion," said Sidney.

"Do not berate me, Sidney Parker," she said with feeling. "You both are the only people, save Edward Young, who know my story. I leave for Paris in two day's time. I am giving you both the sum you asked for on two conditions. One, you stay here in London until I am gone. And two, obviously, never breathe a word of any of this to anyone," she looked at them both. "Half I shall give you now. The other half you may come here to retrieve once I am gone on Wednesday."

Sidney thought this was very clever of her. "That all sounds reasonable."

She took out her bank ledgers and stood. "Well. Here you are," she said.

They both went over and took them from her. "What of Mr Young, Eliza?" Lady Bertram asked.

"I don't know. I have not seen him since just after the funeral."

"Well. Take care of yourself," Lady Bertram curtseyed and left.

Sidney watched her leave and then turned to Eliza. "I am sorry. None of this is ideal."

"Stop it. You are getting everything that you wanted. Fifty thousand pounds and that Heywood harlot."

He took a step closer. "I would watch what I said if I were you," he breathed.

"Why? I have nothing to lose. And would you threaten me, Sidney? I still have twenty five thousand pounds that you desire. Perhaps you should mind your own tongue."

He smirked at her, then turned and left the house. He had no desire to admit anything to her where Charlotte was concerned. He did not put anything past her.

His only concern now was that Stringer would propose before he could reach her, and she would feel compelled to accept.

Sidney spent the next couple of days idly watching the time. He did not write to Charlotte, for he did not want for her to get her hopes up. Anything could happen before he was able leave on Wednesday.

And so he would return to Sanditon with fifty thousand pounds and no fiancé.

* * *

It was Tuesday at Willingden, and Charlotte was working in the garden while Charlie was in the stables. She wiped her brow and sighed. It was good to be out and working. She didn't do this type of work often, but right now, it was exactly what she needed. She was happy to be home. She was right to leave Sanditon.

"Charlotte!"

She turned and smiled. "Hello, Allison."

"How are you?" she walked up and started to help her pick some fruit from the vine.

"Well enough. You?"

"Better. I've cried it out, and I'm feeling much better now."

"Oh good," she touched her hand. "Allison, I am sorry. You know that."

"Of course I do. I'm only happy that we have the relationship that we do. If we were not close, then I don't know what I'd do."

She laughed. "Stay angry with me forever, I expect."

"Oh no!" she returned her laugh. And then she laughed harder. "But yes. You're likely right."

"Of course I am," and they gathered up the baskets and walked up to the house.

They went in to find the house loud and full. Charlotte smiled. "I love it here," she turned to Allison. "But I so miss John."

"He will be back soon, Charlotte."

"I know…but…" she swallowed. "But he will be gone. In Antigua."

"We don't know what will happen. He might stay."

"He won't," Charlotte shook her head. "He will go and have adventures. It's what he always wanted."

They went over to the table and sat with Liliana and Caroline. "Tell us about Sanditon," said Caroline. "We want to hear all about things."

"You start," said Charlotte, picking up some needlepoint. "I should like to listen."

* * *

Bright and early Wednesday morning Sidney left for Eliza's house. She was not there to receive him, but a letter was waiting. He opened it.

_Mr Parker,_

_Please find your requested sum. I hope this settles matters between us._

_I did love you. I hope that you know that. _

_Please do not ever contact me again. _

_Eliza Campion._

There. Twenty five thousand pounds. He smiled and put it into his breast pocket. The porter was standing there. Sidney nodded to him. "Do you know what she means to do with this house?"

"I am not aware, sir."

"If she sells it, please alert my own servants," he bowed, and left.

He strode back to his own house…allowing himself to now think about Charlotte. What would she say when he told her? How soon until they could be married? His heart was full, and for the first time since the midsummer ball, it did not feel heavy. It was quite light.

"Simms! Mr Simms!" he called, entering the house.

"Sir?"

"Ready my bags. I'm writing to Tom to alert him of my eminent arrival…"

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. For Sanditon," he nodded.

* * *

"And what do you think, Charlotte?"

"Hm?" she pulled the thread through and then sipped her tea.

"Were you listening to Charles?" her mother looked at her crookedly.

"No. I'm sorry, Charlie. What were you saying?" she smiled. It was Wednesday afternoon, and she had just finished writing a letter to John. She was thinking about what she had said to him, and wondering if it had been selfish. She had asked if he would consider coming to Willingden a week early, and to bring Georgiana. Her parents had asked multiple times about Georgiana, wondering what sort of person she was.

Charlotte briefly worried about her race, but explained it to her parents, and neither seemed to be fussed.

"It doesn't matter," Charlie flashed a smile. "Momma, I was hoping to attend the ball this evening. Are the girls going?"

"The Smith's, you mean?"

"That's the one. It's the end of summer and I understand there is to be quite a gathering."

Charlotte looked at her mother. "I should like to go to a ball, momma."

"Of course, dearest. And what of Allison? Would she care to go to the ball?"

She stood. "I'll ask her. Should I offer for the twins to go, too?"

Her mother looked at Charlie. "I think…perhaps just the three of you this time, Charlotte."

Charlotte nodded and left the room to look for Allison. She stepped out into the afternoon sun and breathed deeply. She would need to appreciate the things that she so took for granted before. Life was a blessing, and she needed to see the again. She'd been so inside her own head.

She walked to the end of the garden and found Allison reading what looked to be a letter. "Allison?"

"Oh! Charlotte!" she put the letter away. "How are you?"

"Very well," she looked at her a bit crookedly. "I am come to ask you if you'd care to attend the Smith's ball this evening? The last of the summer."

Allison shifted. "Y…yes. Yes that would be lovely," she stood. "I'll go get ready," she hurried off.

Charlotte watched her with a smile.

* * *

The coach rambled on. It was about five hours from London to Sussex, but Sidney told his driver to hurry.

He wasn't fast enough for his liking. He sat, fumbling with the buttons on his coat. It had only been a few days since he'd last seen her, but it seemed an age.

He felt as though he'd lived a lifetime since he'd spoken with her, and that his life was nearly unrecognizable to himself.

He sighed, leaning his head back. Soon he'd be at Sanditon, and he'd be able to see Charlotte, and, hopefully, propose marriage to her. If she had despaired, and Stringer had proposed, and she accepted in a moment of weakness….

Well. He wouldn't think about it.

Sidney must have dozed off, for the next thing he knew he was only a few miles from Sanditon. He sat straight up. The day was dying, but there was still light. What we he do when he saw her? Cry?

Part of him certainly hoped not, but part of him did not care.

Charlotte smoothed out her gown and pulled the gloves on. She was excited to go to the ball, if only to give her mind some reprieve.

Charlie was waiting for them as the sisters descended the stairs. "Well. You both look absolutely lovely."

Charlotte smiled, then glanced at Allison. There was no responding grin…she appeared to be quite distracted. "Allison? Are you well?"

"I am. Are we ready?" she nodded.

"Have a wonderful time, dears. Give the best to the Smith's for us," called their mother, surrounded by the littles.

"Oh! I do long for a ball!" cried Caroline. "When shall we go, momma? Surely not until the four older ones are married? For we shall be too old for a husband by then!"

"Hush, Caroline," an incensed Lilliana admonished. "How can you be so selfish and cruel? It's not as though we've never gone. And if anything, it's Charlie's doing that we're not."

But Charlotte was laughing. "Never fear, Caroline. This is but one ball. I daresay there will be another in a month," she turned.

"A month," Caroline repeated sarcastically. "Fancy that, Lilly. I'm holding you to that, Charlotte!"

The three left and climbed into the coach. "I wish, in a way, that we weren't in our finery. It's less than a mile to the Smith's, and we could walk," observed Charlotte.

"Walk! Charlotte! What are you on about?" Charlie laughed.

"For all of your sport, Charles, you are astonishingly lazy," replied she with a sigh. She glanced at Allison. "I do miss John," she said softly.

"He shall return to you before you know it, dear," said Charlie.

"Yes. With his fiancé and on to Antigua."

"But you said you like Ms Lambe."

"I adore Georgiana. But I cannot help but to hold some resentment for taking John away from us," she played with the lace on her dress.

"He'll be back. He won't stay away forever. How could he, when he loves you so?" Charlie smiled at her.

She shrugged as they entered the long drive of the Smith's house. They were the wealthiest in the neighborhood, and also one of the most genial. With two sons and two daughters, the Smiths were a happy lot, and everyone enjoyed their company.

Crispin was Charlie's best mate. They got on very well.

Toby was friends with John, and though they were close, not nearly as close as Crispin and Charlie.

Marianne was friends with Charlotte, and though they could not be called close any longer, they had been very much so when they were small.

And Jane, while not that close with Allison, maintained a friendly acquaintance.

The Smith's greeted the Heywood's, and Charlotte went directly to Marianne. "How are you?" she smiled.

"Well. Busy, with this ball, I must admit," she looked around. "But where is John?"

"He remains in Sanditon with his fiancé."

They walked out onto the veranda together. "His fiancé? Oh that is wonderful," smiled Marianne. "Who is the lady?"

"Georgiana Lambe. She is from Antigua, and I'm afraid that they will return there once they are married."

"Oh, I see. Well, perhaps you might visit. That should lessen the loss," she smiled. Marianne was nothing if not optimistic.

"Perhaps," Charlotte nodded. "But tell me of your news. It's been ages!"

And the two chatted for some time before Marianne was asked to dance. Charlotte was left alone there, looking out into the night.  
And she began to think of Sidney.

They had attended a couple of balls, and even a masquerade. She smiled. And now, Ms Campion…no. Mrs Parker, would be going with him and would dance. She sighed.

* * *

"Tom!" Sidney entered Trafalgar House in a rush. "Tom!" he yelled.

"Sidney!" Mary Parker came to him, panic in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"Is Charlotte here?"

"No. No…she…"

"She's not at the hotel. I checked. And James Stringer is gone as well."

"Oh…oh dear. No. Charlotte and Allison left a couple of days ago. John Heywood is still here."

Sidney swallowed. "What? Why?"

"Well…" she led him to the sitting room, where John and Georgiana were talking.

John stood. "Mr Parker. Whatever is the matter?"

Sidney's heart was pounding. He looked at Georgiana. "What's happening here?"

"We are engaged," she said, standing.

"You're…" Sidney looked at John.

"Engaged, Mr Parker."

Sidney rubbed his face. He couldn't think about that now. "Where is Charlotte?" he asked.

"Willingden."

"And where is Mr Stringer?"

"I'm not certain…he did not communicate anything to me…"

Sidney felt his stomach tighten. He needed to trust in Charlotte. "I need to get to Willingden now. I'd like for you to accompany me…how long is the journey?"

"Not two hours," said John. He looked at Georgiana. "I'll be back tomorrow," he kissed her hand. The two men left, Sidney's coach waiting outside. They climbed in after Sidney gave directions. "Is everything all right, Mr Parker?"

"Sidney," he said. "No. Actually, I'm not certain," he looked at John. "You're engaged to Georgiana?"

John swallowed. "I am, yes."

"You need my permission."

He cleared his throat. "Do I have your permission to marry Ms Lambe, Mr Parker?"

Sidney smiled. "You do. And I told you to call me Sidney."

"Thank you, Sidney," nodded John, and he sighed with relief. "Are you…are you concerned that Mr Stringer is proposing to Charlotte?"

He shifted. "I want only to get to your sister as soon as possible."

"Forgive me, Sidney. But are you not engaged to Ms Campion?"

"I am not," but he offered no other explanation.

* * *

Charlotte walked into the main hall. It was beautifully decorated. She sighed as she walked along the periphery. She looked for Allison, but could not spot her. She wondered if Allison would be able to recover from her heartache. And though she did not feel wholly responsible, part of her did feel as though she was reason that Allison may never find marital happiness.

She took some wine and sipped it, when she saw something almost unbelievable.

James Stringer was striding toward her, a broad smile on his face.

She collected herself as he approached. "Mr Stringer," she said. "What ever are you doing here?"

"Oh, Miss Heywood! I am come because you left without a word, and I never had the opportunity to speak with you."

"Oh…" she swallowed. "Yes. I am sorry for that, Mr Stringer. We were in a hurry."

"It doesn't matter," he nodded. "Might I be honored to have this dance with you?"

She nodded. "Yes of course," and he led her to the dance floor.

"This is a lovely house," he observed, bowing to her as the reel began.

"It is. We, my siblings and I, spent a good deal of time here as children," she turned and took hands with another partner, then turned back to Mr Stringer. "What did you want to discuss?"

He cleared his throat as they danced the length of the room. "Miss Heywood, it has been my particular wish for some time to…" and they switched partners.

Charlotte's heart was beating very fast. They joined again.

"…speak with you about a most delicate matter."

"Indeed?" she smiled.

He held her close. "Yes. You see, I had wanted nothing more than to beg you to be my wife."

* * *

Sidney Parker and John Heywood were only minutes from the Heywood house. Sidney was perspiring something fierce, and his hands were shaking.

"Are you all right, Sidney?"

"No. And I shan't be until Charlotte has agreed to marry me," he choked.

"I'm certain everything will be well. She loves you so very much."

He lowered his gaze. "Yes. What have I done?"

"Nothing that cannot be mended with a proper proposal now that you are freed!" John exclaimed. "And here…we are here."

They left the coach and all but ran to the house. Sidney was trembling all over, desperate to see her. He followed John…"Momma!" called John. "Mother!"

Mrs Heywood came running. "John! Whatever is the matter?" she looked at Sidney, then back to her son.

"Where is Charlotte?"

"She's at the ball. At the Smith's ball…is she well? Mr Stringer was just here looking for her."

"Oh my god," said Sidney in a panicked tone. "John…my god." He took his hand. "What…where is this place?"

"Not far. We can run…"

"John Heywood. Tell me this instant what is happening!" Mrs Heywood yelled.

"Charlotte…loves this man," he looked at Sidney. "And he loves her. But Mr Stringer, I'm afraid, also loves Charlotte…and we are worried that he is about to propose marriage to her."

"But she would not accept him, if she loves…pardon me. What is your name?"

"Sidney Parker," he nodded. "But you'll forgive me. I must find your daughter," and he turned with John and left the house.

* * *

"Mr Stringer. You must know that I cannot…"

"You mistake me, Miss Heywood," and he led her from the dance floor. "It _had_ been my intention. But for some time, I have discovered that I am in love with your sister. And I wanted to tell you before I went to her. For, as you may recall, I had told you that I was in love with you."

"Oh! Mr Stringer! That is wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Yes…do go and find Allison," she smiled, then kissed his cheek. He smiled and left her.

"What was that about Charlotte?" Marianne was at her side.

"I believe that Mr Stringer, that gentleman," she nodded. "Is about to propose to Allison."

"How wonderful!"

"That it is," she smiled. But then, a sort of melancholy enveloped her. She was thrilled for Allison. Ecstatic for John. But her own heart was broken yet. "Excuse me," she said, then went outside, to the rear veranda.

* * *

Sidney pounded the ground with his feet as he ran. He had divested himself of his hat and coat to lessen the load, but also, it was August. It was quite warm.

John kept his pace with him. "Just there!" he cried after five minutes of running hard.

They ran up to the front door and John spoke with the porter, who quickly allowed them to enter.

The ball was paused as the musicians were taking a break for a drink, so people were scattered about.

John was scanning the crowd, trying to make out anyone he knew would know where Charlotte was…"Marianne!" he called, rushing over to her. "Oh, Marianne. It is good to see you. Is my sister here?" he breathed.

"John!" she smiled. "Yes…she's just over there with Mr Stringer…it was suggested that he means to propose," she smiled, looking over. "But…now where have they gone?"

"No!" Sidney yelled. It was not loud, but loud enough to be disruptive.

"Sidney…" John began.

He had backed into the wall behind him.

"John…" Sidney breathed. "Oh god," he felt as though he were about to cry.

"Go find her!" John said. "Just…go. Stop them."

"How can I do that? If she wants to marry him…"

"She wants to marry _you…_go and tell her," John was insistent.

He nodded, then left the place to look around the room.

"My goodness!" said Marianne. "What is happening?"

John swallowed. "Poor Sidney Parker. He's in love with Charlotte, but Mr Stringer, it seems, got to her first."

"Charlotte?" said Marianne. "I thought you were looking for Allison."

He looked at her. "Allison? Why would you think that?"

"Because…well. Because Charlotte just told me that she was being proposed to by a gentleman, and I assumed you were looking for her for…confirmation?"

"Oh," John smiled. "Oh…thank god. I'll…" he looked around. "I'll try to locate these lovelorn two," and he left.

* * *

Sidney dashed around the place, but there was no sign of her, or Mr Stringer. He thought that this was likely the worst day of his life. He was shaking all over, breathing hard…where were they? Did they leave together? Perhaps he took her back to her house to ask her father's permission.

He felt ill.

He was going to be sick.

Sidney needed air. He had no idea where he was in relation to the rest of the house, so he picked a door and went through.

And there she was.

He breathing stopped. Everything stopped. He was frozen. What should he do?

But his mind was made up for him when she turned.

Charlotte stared. It could not be…her brow furrowed. "Mr…Parker?"

He swallowed, but he did not need to, for his mouth was bone dry. "Hello, Miss Heywood."

"What are you doing here?"

He let out a long breath, then laughed. "Well, I am here because …" he stopped. He went over to her. "Tell me, Miss Heywood. Are you engaged?"

"Am I engaged? To whom?"

"I understand Mr Stringer was here to propose marriage."

She searched his face. "No. He was here to propose to Allison, Mr Parker."

"To…" he swallowed again. This time he felt the lump in his throat. "To Miss Allison Heywood…my god," he closed his eyes, and, feeling faint, leaned against a pillar.

"Pardon me, Mr Parker. Why are you here?"

He started to laugh. He rubbed his face. "I'm here because I have ended my engagement to Ms Campion. I am here because I wished to find you," he looked at her. "And when you weren't at Sanditon, I panicked and dragged your brother with me. And then, I learned that, upon arriving at your house, that you were here, that Mr Stringer desired to see you, and I assumed he had proposed," he took her hand. "Miss Heywood. I …" he smiled. "I am at your mercy. I cannot bear to live one day longer without you. I know that I have hurt you…I know that what I have done is almost certainly unforgivable …what I did to you that fortnight. My only defense was that I had reconciled myself to being miserable for the rest of my life, and those days would need to sustain me," he searched her face. "I beg you…please…" he knelt before her.

"Mr Parker…that is hardly necessary!" she cried, holding tightly to his hands.

"No it is," he objected. "Please. Marry me, Charlotte. I love you more than anything, and I need you even more."

"Sidney…get up," she said, pulling him to standing.

He did.

"Of course I will marry you," she breathed. "I cannot believe this is happening," she said as he leaned and claimed her lips.

And with a most ferocious passion he kissed her…as though she were a tall glass of water in the August heat, as though she was the only thing offering him breath…he held her so tightly that she needed to pull away.

"Charlotte," he leaned his forehead against hers. "Let me go to your father," and tears fell from his eyes.

"Yes," she replied. "Let us."

The Heywood house was all a bustle the next morning. James was positively glowing with Allison by his side.

* * *

Everyone was delighted that John was home. The twins would not leave him be.

As for Charlotte and Sidney, they were much more quiet than the rest. They were inseparable, as though they were concerned that the other might disappear if left from their sight. Sidney explained everything that occurred with Eliza. She was astonished. He told her that Sanditon was all but saved.

And John explained that Georgiana had consented to spend summer and autumn in England, which was a relief for everyone.

"When shall we marry?" asked Charlotte to Sidney later in the day in the garden.

"Mm…what about Michaelmas? That's in a month," he brushed some hair from her face and kissed her neck.

They were sitting among some wildflowers.

"All right," she smiled. "And where?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, no. But Mary would be very happy to host."

"I'm certain she would."

He stood, then pulled her to standing. "And where shall we live?"

"Not London."

"No? Are you a snob, Charlotte?"

"No. But I should hate to leave Willingden. I could not bear to be further than Sanditon."

He laughed. "We shall find a place."

"Of course," and she ghosted the tops of the flowers with her fingertips. "What a lovely day," she observed.

"It is now," he said, and kissed her hand.

* * *

_AN: thank you so much for reading. It was a joy to write!_


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